


Of Scotch and Wine

by theoofoof



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-12-24 09:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12009477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: A collection of unrelated, standalone stories about Benson/Barba.





	1. Genes: Missing Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first ever attempt at writing for SVU/Barson. I'm relatively new to the fandom and haven't seen all the episodes yet so the bits in this chapter about Benson's father are based on what I've read. This is also unbetad I apologise for any mistakes.  
> This first chapter is a missing scene from 18x13: Genes. When I watched it I was struck by Barba's comment at the end about Benson's concerns about Noah. She'd clearly confided in him. This is my attempt to address that. Set between when Carisi and Rollins are sent to find Will Stein after he doesn't turn up to testify and when the three of them confront Stein on the roof.  
> Please do leave a comment and let me know how I did with my first Barson fic

“How are you holding up?” Barba asked Olivia as the third sigh left her lips in as many minutes. Over the last few days, he’d noticed this case was taking its toll on her. She was quieter, more withdrawn than usual. He didn’t think she was eating and, if the bags under her eyes were anything to go by, she hadn’t been sleeping either. It was why he’d accompanied her back to the precinct after they’d dispatched Carisi and Rollins to find their missing witness. He was worried about her and wanted to take care of her. Not that he’d sold it to her like that of course; he valued his life too much.

Olivia lowered the file she was holding and looked up at him curiously. “With what?”

“All this talk of the ‘rape gene’. It can’t be easy for you.”

She dropped the file onto her desk and let out another sigh. That her father was a rapist wasn’t common knowledge among the law enforcement or judicial communities of New York City. She only told people she trusted, and even then, it was as and when they needed to know. It wasn’t something that she enjoyed talking about and she didn’t want it to define the way people viewed her.

Barba had first asked about her family after the disaster with Alex Muñoz. He’d shared some of his childhood with her and had enquired about hers. She’d brushed him off, telling him that it was a long story; something that she didn’t want to get into at the time. To his credit he hadn’t pushed her; he’d accepted her answer and changed the subject. It was only after the death of his grandmother that she finally told him the truth.

***

_“I lied to you,” Olivia admitted as she returned from checking on Noah. She’d invited Barba round after hearing the news about his grandmother. Noah had provided the man with a blessed distraction from his grief while he’d been awake – wanting Uncle Barba’s undivided attention. Once he was in bed though, the two of them had started talking, first about his Grandmother but then about other aspects of his childhood. When Barba had told her about his difficult relationship with his father, she’d felt guilty. He trusted her enough to confide in her, perhaps it was time she did the same._

_Barba’s brow furrowed at her words. “About what?”_

_“Last year, when you asked me about my father.” She picked her wine glass up off the table and ran her finger around the rim, her gaze fixed on the rich, dark liquid within. “I told you that it was a long story. It isn’t. Not really. The truth is…” Lifting the glass to her lips, Olivia downed the remnants of her Cabernet. She lifted her eyes to meet Barba’s. “My mother got pregnant with me... after she was raped.”_

_He dropped his head into his hands and swore quietly. “Shit Liv.” Suddenly he had a better understanding of Olivia Benson and what made her tick. Her background explained what drove her and why she always fought so hard for the victim._

_She replaced the empty glass on the coffee table. “The man who raped her… my father… he attacked two other women in the space of two years.”_

_Turning his head toward her once again, Barba spoke softly. “Was he ever caught? Prosecuted?”_

_Olivia shook her head. “No. He’s dead. Killed himself.” Her voice was flat as she spoke and Barba’s heart broke for her. “I never met him. Never got a chance to ask him why he did what he did. But he ruined my mother’s life. She tried to forget by drinking herself into oblivion which didn’t always work out well for me, y’know?”_  
_She didn’t elaborate, but she didn’t need to. Barba’s own history and the amount of cases he’d seen during his time as an ADA meant that he could well imagine the kind of things she had experienced._

_Barba reached over and grasped her hand. “Thank you, Liv._

_This time it was her brow that furrowed. “For what?”_

_“For trusting me with this. With your past.”_

***

“Liv?”

The touch of Barba’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present.

She shrugged him off. “I’m fine.”

Barba sighed as he rested against the edge of the desk, next to her chair. “Come on Liv.”

“What do you want me to say Barba?” She stood and began to pace. “That I’ve hardly slept since this case started; that I’m scared to death that Noah is going to turn out like Johnny D. Or maybe you want to hear that I’m wondering if my actions… my aggression towards Lewis… that that was because of my father.”

“William Lewis was an evil man. He kidnapped you, assaulted you, beat you.” Barba moved in front of Olivia, stilling her pacing. “Anyone,” Barba placed his hands on her shoulders, “anyone, would have done what you did given the opportunity. Hell, it took everything I had not to take a swing at him.”

Olivia scoffed. Rafael Barba was hardly the fighting type.

One hand flew to his chest. “You wound me, Liv.”

She smirked. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he whispered, returning his hand to her shoulder. “It’s worth it to see you smile. Look, there is absolutely no evidence that a ‘rape gene’ exists. You know that.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “You know.”

Slowly, Olivia nodded. “I do. I know I do. But then a case like this will come up and…” she dismissed her thoughts with a wave of her hand.  
“We’ve had cases like this before, and I’ve never seen you like this. Is there something I don’t know?”

Olivia stepped back from Barba and turned away. She stared out of the window, her gaze fixed on the roof of the building opposite. Barba waited patiently, resting once more against the edge of her desk.  After a few minutes, Olivia ran her hand through her hair and told her friend what had happened. “Noah and I were at the park. He was playing in the sand box and a little girl had the digger he wanted. He… he tried to take it from her and when she wouldn’t give it to him, he pushed her.”

Barba nodded, knowingly. “And you think that’s a sign he’s going to grow up to be violent, like his father.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Kids snatch, Liv. They want what other kids have and don’t understand that they can’t have it.”

“I get that. I do. But… he pushed her. I didn’t expect that from him.”

“Noah’s what?” Barba asked. “Three?” Olivia nodded. “There you go then,” he continued. “He’s still learning to be social, how to interact with others, how to manage his emotions. What happened at the park is normal. Ask any other parent.”

“But what if-?”

“I’m assuming you intervened. That you didn’t let it go unpunished?”

He’d meant the question to be rhetorical – already knowing the answer – but she answered anyway. “Of course. I took the toy off him and gave it back to the girl and told him that he couldn’t snatch. I sent him to time out.”

“It sounds to me like you’re doing all the right things. You’re teaching Noah the social skills he needs and setting clear boundaries for him. He’ll be fine.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you become an expert on parenting?” The first time she asked Barba to hold her son he’d done so awkwardly and with a little fear in his eyes. Over time, he had become more at ease with Noah and she knew that they both enjoyed the time they spent together. But as far as she knew, Noah was the only child he had any contact with.

Maybe when they’d first begun working together Barba would have comeback with a smug, slightly arrogant comment, but not now. They had been dancing around their shifting relationship for long enough. He’d been looking for an opportunity to discuss it with her, but one had never presented itself. Until perhaps, now.

“Well, this amazing woman that I know adopted a little boy, so I thought I should read up.” Shuffling nervously, he reached out and loosely encircled her wrists with his hands. “Especially when I began to realise I wanted to spend more time with him…” He drew her gently towards him, rubbing the backs of her hands with his thumbs, “and his mom.”

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but Barba continued before she got the chance. “There’s no pressure here Liv. I just wanted to lay it all out there, that’s all. How I feel.”

She hadn’t expected his honesty. Not now. She’d thought she’d have longer to get her head around her feelings.  She’d ended her relationship with Tucker to focus on Noah and now, less than a month later, she was on the precipice of another.

This felt different though. They were friends. Good friends and had been for a long time. She wouldn’t deny finding him attractive – she always had. She was only human after all. She’d thought about them too over the years. What it would be like if they were more than friends. How they would be away from the office. And then, before she realised it, something had shifted. Their relationship had become something else. Something more. A natural seamless progression that neither of them had noticed until it had happened. But they weren’t there yet. They hadn’t addressed the changes between them and there were lines they had yet to cross.

At her thoughts, her lips curved up into a small smile. Barba had taken the first step, she now needed to take the next. She rearranged their hands, interlacing their fingers and leaned towards him. She watched his nervousness give way to a shy smile as he realised that she wasn’t upset or offended at his feelings. They hovered there, their lips centimetres apart, their breaths mingling.  Slowly, she closed the distance between them and, closing her eyes, brushed her lips against his. It was brief, barely a kiss at all, but it was filled with affection and the promise of something more.

Resting his forehead against hers, Barba was the first to break the silence, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. “Liv, I-“

No sooner had he started speaking than her cell phone sprang to life on her desk.

“Hold that thought,” she smiled, stepping around him and picking up her phone. “Rollins, what have you got?... Where?” She scribbled something onto a notepad on her desk.

“Okay, I’m on my way.” She turned back to Barba as she hung up. “They’ve found Will Stein.” She ripped the note she’d written off the pad and rounded the desk. “We’re going to go and pick him up.”

“Please get him onside to testify tomorrow.”

“I’ll do my best,” she vowed, grabbing her coat from the hook near the door.

“I know you will.” Barba took the coat out of her hands and helped her on with it.

Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “Listen, why don’t you come over tonight. You can put some of your new found expertise to good use with Noah and then… once he’s in bed… maybe we can talk.”

He nodded. “I’ll bring dinner. The kid still eating macaroni and cheese?” He seemed to remember that was his favourite but he knew some kids could be fussy and change what they ate whenever they felt like it.

“Yeah. About six thirty?”

“I’ll be there. Now, go and get me my witness Lieutenant.”

Olivia rolled her eyes at his attitude and smiled. He really did make her feel more at ease than anyone she’d ever known. She doubted that the demons she struggled with would ever disappear completely but maybe, with him at her side, they’d be a little less fierce.


	2. December Solstice: Post-Ep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post-ep for 16x16 December Solstice. Benson supports Barba through his Grandmother's death.

It was a miserable day. The clouds, black and threatening, covered the sky, occasionally dropping a few spots of rain on the world below. The sun tried in vain to peek through the black curtains but was thwarted at every turn. Shaking off and closing her umbrella, Olivia slipped quietly into the back of the beautiful, old Catholic Church in downtown New York. Although not particularly religious herself, she had always found something comforting in the dim lights, the stained glass, and the flickering candles in these places. But not today. Today she was too filled with grief and sorrow. She hadn't known the woman whose requiem mass she was attending, she hadn't specifically been invited to the service, but she'd wanted to be there. For Barba.

He was seated next to his mother in the front row. They sat in silence, listening to the priest as he spoke softly, regretfully. As her gaze settled on them, she wondered how he was holding up. It had been almost a week since she had seen him. Since he'd turned up at her apartment, on the afternoon of his Grandmother's death.

* * *

_She opened the door a fraction, Noah balanced on her hip, to find Barba stood on the other side. "Barba!" Opening the door fully she got a proper look at him; he was pale and drawn, with a hint of redness around his eyes. "Is everything okay?"_

_"_ _I,,," He looked from her, noting her casual dress of yoga pants and an oversized NYPD sweatshirt, to Noah, who was wearing a onesie emblazoned with dinosaurs. His head was laid against his mom's shoulder and he was rubbing his eyes. It was clear to him that he'd arrived either at or during, naptime. The thought that he may have woken her or Noah intensified his feelings of despondency. "Y'know what, never mind. I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry."_

_He turned to leave, but her hand on his arm stopped him. "What's happened?" She had seen him sad before, when a verdict hadn't gone their way, or when he was listening to particularly harrowing testimony, but not like this. Never this inconsolable. He looked almost completely broken._

_"_ _My grandmother... she..." His eyes glistened as he spoke, "she died."_

 _"_ _Oh Rafael, I'm sorry." She rarely used his first name, but given the circumstances, it felt right. He wasn't here now as an ADA, he was here because he needed a friend. She ran her hand down his arm and took his hand. Stepping backwards into her hallway, she pulled Barba inside. Allowing the door to slam shut behind them, she led them further into the apartment where she placed Noah on the floor next to his shape-sorter and began to clear the couch "Sorry about the mess; we were having some snuggle time."_

_Barba watched as she scooped up several of Noah's soft toys from the sofa and placed them in the toy box, and folded the throw blankets that they'd clearly been wrapped in._

_Olivia motioned to the now clear sofa. "Have a seat. Can I get you anything? A drink maybe?"_

_"_ _No. Thank you. I'm good," he assured her, taking a seat as instructed. She joined him and for a few moments, they sat in silence, content to watch Noah as he tried to manipulate the shapes to get them in the holes, his tongue sticking out in concentration. Barba chuckled softly at him. "Persistent little fella, isn't he?"_

 _"_ _When the mood takes him yeah. Most of the time it's endearing, but not when he's trying to get another story at bedtime or, his favourite cookies for breakfast."_

_Barba was quiet again as he continued to watch the little boy. He was suddenly assaulted by memories of his own childhood; time spent with his beloved Abuelita. "My grandmother used to bake the best cookies in the whole of el barrio, I'd have eaten them for breakfast, lunch and dinner if could. Sometimes, when Mami wasn't looking, she'd sneak me an extra one with a little wink. It was our little secret. When I went to Harvard, she used to send me batches of them. The days they arrived, I was the most popular guy in the dorm. Even on my first ever day in court, I arrived home to find a box sat on my kitchen counter with a little note saying, 'Bien hecho, Nieto. Te quiero.'"_

_His voice broke as he remembered how proud she was of him when he'd finished law school, the way she would tell him he was going to be a judge someday. She'd been proud of him and he'd let her down in the worse way._

_It broke Olivia's heart to see him like that. She felt the tears well up in her own eyes and threaten to break forth as he sought solace in her embrace. She rocked him gently, speaking soothing words of comfort._

_His grief had been intermittent throughout the afternoon and evening. He'd stayed for dinner, although he'd barely touched his and then he'd helped her bathe Noah. It wasn't something she'd expected him to want to do, but she assumed he was just looking for the distraction. After Noah was asleep they'd talked some more and he'd shared more memories of his Grandmother. This had led to more tears and him finally succumbing to the exhaustion that grief had brought, she'd covered him up on the couch at and left him to sleep._

_Later, he'd entered her bedroom to tell her was going to go home but she had wordlessly held out a hand and invited him to her bed, where he'd curled himself around her, clinging to her. She'd tried not to think about how good his arms felt around her, or let herself give in to the delicious pleasure of his warmth. She'd forced herself to think of his sorrow and sank willingly with him into fatigue._

_She awoke the next morning alone. A hastily scribbled note stood on her bedside table._

_'_ _Thank you, Liv_

_R x'_

* * *

At the conclusion of the service, Father Espinoza joined the family, embracing each of them in turn and offering his condolences. Rafael barely acknowledged his presence when he returned his handshake. He had remained stony-faced, and clear-eyed throughout the funeral, determined not to let his guard down.

One by one, family and friends filed past Lucia Barba and her son, unintentionally mimicking the priest's actions in the vain hope of offering some sort of comfort to the family. Whilst Lucia responded warmly to their hugs, Rafael seemed to find it an imposition and remained steely-faced throughout.

What the mourners didn't know was that Rafael was struggling. Struggling to control his emotions, which threatened to erupt in an unstoppable flow of tears and despair at any moment. But he couldn't let himself go - not here, not in front of all these people, and especially not in front of his Mami who, right now, needed his strength more than she'd ever needed it before.

Finally, the endless procession was over. Rafael let himself relax ever so slightly, as he turned to smile weakly at his cousin Emilio. He didn't notice the quiet figure who had hung back waiting for the crowd to disperse and everybody else had left. He still didn't notice her, even as she approached him and his family. It wasn't until he heard his mother whisper, "Sergeant Benson," that he realised his colleague, his friend, had joined them. He hadn't even realised she was here. He turned slowly back to his mother and saw Olivia standing in front of her, with her hand lightly resting on her shoulder.

"Mrs Barba, I am so sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do..." While the words were not dissimilar from those that had been uttered by everyone else who had been before, the sincerity was unmistakable and the emotion in her voice could not be manufactured.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Rafael watched this exchange in silence. Seeing Olivia brought on a wave of emotion so strong he had to look away. He sensed that she was now standing in front of him and his face turned towards her - fighting the desire to let go of his pain. Their eyes locked - Rafael breathed in sharply; her eyes were so full of understanding and knowledge, but most of all they were full of pain...Her eyes were a mirror of his own, and suddenly the feelings that he had tried to repress throughout the funeral erupted. Deep from the pit of his stomach, he felt a choking sob catch in his throat:

"Liv..." Rafael haltingly spoke her name, before his face crumpled and the tears started to flow.

Confronted once more with Rafael's grief, Olivia was unable to stem the gentle flow of her own tears. Rafael reached for her and wrapped his arms around her neck, gently lowering his head onto her shoulder. She returned the embrace tightly and they stood, drawing comfort and strength from each other. There was no need for words; she understood him completely. He desperately needed to grieve for that which was lost. He needed her like he'd never needed anyone before in his life.

Slowly their tears subsided but they remained intertwined, neither of them yet ready to leave the safety and comfort of the embrace. It was Rafael who eventually moved first, gently sliding his hands down until they rested by his sides. At his retreat, Olivia slowly straightened, lifting her arms from her colleague's back so they gently rested on his shoulders. Olivia wiped his damp cheeks with the tips of her fingers, like she did for Noah, and then let her hand drop to her side. Rafael felt a presence behind him and turned to find his mother standing there, along with his aunt and Emilio hovering not far behind. Lucia Barba's face was tender as she spoke, "Rafi, Emilio is going to drive me and Tia Cristina home. Do you want to come back with us?"

"No, I think I'll just go home." Rafael's voice was barely a whisper, and he couldn't look his mother in the eyes, fearful of what he might see there.

Lucia looked at her son, trying to decide what the best thing to do was, eventually deciding that it would be no good trying to force Rafael to come home with her. When that boy had made up his mind about something there was little chance of changing it. "Okay," she nodded. "Will you be all right getting home?"

Rafael resisted the urge to roll his eyes and remind his mother, yet again, that he was a grown man of forty-two and was perfectly capable of getting himself home. Instead, he picked his phone out of his pocket. "I'll Uber," he said, swiping his thumb across the illuminated screen.

"I can drive you," offered Olivia.

Lucia's face relaxed into a small, relieved smile, knowing that her son wouldn't be alone. "Thank you, Sergeant Benson."

Rafael said nothing, but he was glad Olivia had offered her assistance. The last thing he felt like doing right now was jumping into a stranger's car and being forced to make small talk for the duration of the drive. He would never have asked her for her help though; he didn't want her to be under the impression that he'd turned into some helpless old fool. Besides, spending time with her was what he needed now; someone to lean on, someone to help him find some semblance of normality.

* * *

They drove towards Rafael's condo in silence. When they stopped at a red light, Olivia stole a glance at him. He looked tired and worn out. She wondered how long he'd gone without sleep: from the look of his drawn, pale face she guessed it had been a few days at least. She could clearly imagine what kind of hell he must have been going through these last few days - not only having to cope with the death of his Grandmother, but also needing to come to terms with his own feelings of guilt and responsibility over the matter, and all the while also struggling to be the strong one for his mother family: for she knew that being an only child, that would have been the role that he would have immediately assumed.

That he blamed himself for his grandmother's death was a certainty in Olivia's mind after some of the comments he'd choked out through sobs the previous week in her apartment - and she knew the kind of agony that you could inflict on yourself with feelings of guilt. She knew because she'd been doing it for years. For her, it was a well-worn path; she had blamed herself for her mother's misery since she was able to comprehend what had happened to her. No matter how many times people - her therapist, her friends, Elliot, Cragen, Munch and even Barba himself - had tried to assure her that she wasn't to blame, self-loathing had continued to gnaw at her. And now, she could see the same thing happening to Barba.

Rafael raised his eyebrows when Olivia pulled into the visitors' section of his building's carpark, turned off the ignition and got out of the car. He didn't protest though, so Olivia kept walking with him, accompanying him up to his floor.

"I probably won't be the best company, but can you... are you able to stay for a bit?" he asked wearily, as he put the key in the lock. He didn't really want to speak to anyone, but he didn't want to be alone either. He knew from the previous few evenings how easy it would be to get lost in a bottle of scotch if left to his own devices.

The door was open now and Olivia followed him inside. "Lucy is with Noah; she's happy to stay as late as needed. So yes, I can stay."

They moved into the living room and Rafael removed his coat, jacket and tie, placing them over the back of the couch before sitting down. Olivia joined him, placing her own coat atop his. Sensing he didn't want to talk, she reached for the remote that was lying on the coffee table and switched on the television. Neither of them really wanted to watch it, but it provided background noise and something to focus on, other than his grief.

A little while later, Olivia turned to Barba. "Do you mind if I grab some water?"

"Of course. Sorry. I should have offered. I'm a poor host. Abuelita would be furious with me..." he scoffed at his own words. "Well, more so than she already was." His emotions shifted and tears pooled in his eyes again as he remembered her anger at him.

Olivia excused herself to the kitchen but quickly returned with two glasses of water. She placed one in front of Rafael before rounding the table to re-join him.

He swept his tears away with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. I just... I keep thinking about all the things I should have done or said..."

She placed her hand on his forearm and was surprised to encounter bare skin. He'd rolled his sleeves up while she'd been in the kitchen. "It's normal to have regrets when someone dies. To think about what we would have done differently given the chance."

"But it was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed her to move." And there was the crux of his grief. While he'd given her hints that he felt responsible, he'd not come out and said it so directly before. "She didn't want to leave her apartment. She said she wanted to die in her own home. And she did. What if she died sooner than she should have because of me?"

"Rafael, you can't think like that." She slid her hand down his arm to grasp his hand. "Your grandmother was old, she was sick, she passed away. It was not your fault."

Rafael tensed but didn't remove his hand from her grip. "My mother blames me." His voice was huskier and deeper than usual and Olivia could tell he was nearing his breaking point.

Olivia shook her head, "No, she doesn't," she assured him. "She may say so now but she's hurting. She doesn't believe it. Not really." She moved to kneel in front of him, encasing both his hands in her own. "It was not. Your. Fault," she repeated gently but firmly.

She lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him close. She rested her head on his shoulder as she rubbed his back soothingly.

"Liv," his voice whispered against her ear. A plea for reassurance, a declaration of need.

"I'm here Rafael," she said gently, fingers playing with the soft hair at the base of his neck. "I'm here." She wanted to tell him that she loved him, to say that he would always have her. But now wasn't the time.

Rafael straightened and sank back into the couch, pulling Olivia up with him. She offered no resistance as he settled her on his lap, straddling his legs. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing her in deeply.

She leaned comfortably against him, her closeness calming him. He began to lift his head, to tell her how much he appreciated her support when his lips accidentally brushed against her skin. He froze for a second before temptation took over. Parting his lips, he placed a gentle kiss just below her ear.

Olivia was surprised to feel his lips caress her neck. She hesitated only a moment before letting herself accept it. She leaned back, exposing more of her skin to him. Electricity flooded her body as he kissed his way towards her collarbone.

Rafael pulled back to look into her eyes, vulnerability and need evident on his face. "Is this okay?"

Her eyes met his with reassurance and she caressed his cheek. "It's more than okay."

She leaned towards him, kissing him, feeling his lips against hers for the first time. It was heaven. He returned the kiss, his lips moving softly, gently over hers.

When they parted, Rafael rested his forehead against hers. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Liv."

"Why didn't you?"

"Didn't want to lose you if it didn't work out," he admitted.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure it does then, won't we?" Olivia declared. "Squabbling with each other at 85, remember?"

Rafael smiled. "Definitely."

Their lips met once more and the kiss soon became heated. His tongue slid over her lips, a delicious tease, requesting permission. Her lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, greedy for more of her. All of her. His hand moved to her hair and she slid hers down to his back, pressing her palms against his shoulder blades.

As the passion between them intensified, Rafael couldn't help but become aroused. He'd waited so long to hold her, kiss her, touch her like this, and it felt _so_ good. He could happily drown in her. His free hand fell to her hip, drawing her closer, pressing their bodies tight together, eliciting a breathy groan from him at the contact.

There was no mistaking the sound that came from the back of Rafael's throat, and there was certainly no mistaking the insistent bulge suddenly pressing against Olivia.

Rafael's fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, brushing against her bare skin, as they edged the material upwards. Olivia placed a hand in the centre of his chest and pushed herself away. Gently, but insistently. He complied, relinquishing his hold on her.

"Should we feel guilty about doing this?" Olivia asked, breathless.

"You mean, given the circumstance?"

"Yeah."

Rafael shook his head. "Abuelita used to say that during a time of death, life should be celebrated. I've mourned Liv and I'll continue to, but right now, I want to feel life again." He drew her face back to his but didn't close the distance completely, their lips hovering millimetres from each other. "You are my life Liv. I don't feel any guilt and neither should you."

"Whatever you say, Counsellor," she conceded, her hands beginning to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. "Whatever you say."


	3. Did we...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia wakes up in a bedroom that is definitely not hers…and she's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Barson one-shot. Written in the space of a day and unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.

_Saturday morning..._

The first thing Olivia Benson was aware of upon waking was that the light in the room was all wrong. The second thing was the throbbing in her head. She blinked at the light. The room was totally unfamiliar to her. The bed was totally unfamiliar to her. And so was the naked shoulder that her hand rested on.

Startled, she slid away from the body next to her and eased herself up to a sitting position pulling the sheet up to her neck. She swept a wayward lock of hair out of her eyes and bit her lip as she considered the lump next to her. With a gathering sense of doom, she peeked at person with whom she had obviously spent the night.

“Oh my God!” The words burst from her before she could stop them. She had no memory of how she ended up here… in _his_ bed.

Disturbed by another voice, Rafael Barba’s eyes popped open and then squinted painfully against the light. “Wha…?” He stopped and focused his eyes on her, then looked around the bedroom wildly. “Shit!” He slid quickly to his edge of the bed. “Oh shit,” he repeated, turning slowly to face Olivia. They gazed at each other in shock.

It took an eternity for each of them to take stock of their surroundings. Her clothes were dumped with reckless abandon on the chair. His were in a pile on the floor. For a moment they were both hypnotised by the sight of his suspenders dangling from the ceiling fan, fluttering in circles.

“Are we...?” Rafael began. He tried again, “Did we...?” He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.

Olivia winced. So, he couldn’t remember either then. “Well,” she said shakily. “I'm definitely…erm, naked under here.”

Rafael took a brief peek under his side of the sheet then he slowly closed his eyes as though he never wanted to open them in this world again. Olivia took advantage of Rafael’s self-imposed exile to reach down for the blanket at the end of the bed and pull it up and around herself. She slid out from under the sheet and stood on rather wobbly legs. Her head throbbed mercilessly. “Could I use the...uh...?”

Without opening his eyes, Rafael pointed in the direction of the en-suite. Olivia set off for the bathroom, staggering slightly. Once inside she closed the door behind her and leaned on it. She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples and took several deep breaths. What the hell had happened last night?

Oh, right. Jack McCoy’s retirement party at The Flatiron Room, one of Chelsea’s finest Whiskey Houses. She’d been surprised to receive an invitation, she hadn’t worked directly with him that much, but she’d attended out of a sense of obligation and pressure from Chief Dodds to ‘make nice’. The main event of the evening had been a single malt whiskey “tasting.” She’d only meant to have one or two, but people kept pushing glasses into her hand and there were no buckets to spit into once you’d tasted it. Rafael had been there; he’d been enjoying sampling the whiskeys too. She remembered crossing the room to talk to him and... the rest was blank. What had happened afterwards?

She straightened up and padded over to the mirror to take stock. Leaning in toward her reflection she examined her face. Uh-oh. Stubble rash on her left cheek and chin. Quickly, she inspected her neck. No marks, thankfully. She felt that post-sexual lassitude and looseness in her joints and muscles. Taking a deep breath, she unwrapped the blanket and looked down at herself. Oh yes. No doubt about it. “Well,” she said to her reflection. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Olivia”

Olivia turned on the cold tap and splashed water on her face. What now? She looked in the mirror again. Her hair was at odd angles and traces of smeared lipstick stained her swollen lips. The first order of business was to clean up. She re-wrapped the blanket around herself and crossed to the door. Opening it, she cautiously peeked into the bedroom. Rafael was no longer in bed. He had put on a pair of jeans and was standing topless in the other doorway rhythmically, but very gently, banging his forehead against the doorframe. He was muttering in Spanish. “Dios mío ¿Qué he hecho?”

She cleared her throat to get his attention. He stopped his litany and turned toward her, his face carefully neutral. “Can I use the shower?” she asked. They tried valiantly to look each other in the face but failed, eyes sliding away to rest on something else. Anything else.

“Help yourself,” he nodded, rubbing the side of his face reflectively. “There’s some clean towels under the sink.”

“Thanks.” She pulled her face back and shut the door. Soaking under the hot spray of the shower, she tried again to remember. There was a vague impression of sitting in the back seat of a moving car. Of someone's mouth close to her ear. Of a baritone voice speaking... Rafael’s voice. Wanting to turn toward it... Turning toward it... The rest was a blank _._

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She was retrieving the towels, nice fluffy white ones, from the cupboard under the sink when another fragmented memory came to her. They were in his bedroom. Clothes were flying everywhere. There was a dim memory of his suspenders sailing into the air and catching on the fan and the fading echo of her own voice breathlessly claiming, “Bulls-eye”. Followed by his laughter.

Hot on the heels of that memory came another. Strong arms around her. Her arms around his neck, hands on warm skin... “Stop!” she hissed, eyes squeezed shut. “Just stop!”

Thankfully, the memories receded.

Once dry, Olivia finger-combed her damp hair and, once again, peeked out of the door. Rafael was not in sight. A stab of disappointment caught her off guard. Shaking it off, she crossed the threshold into the bedroom and looked around. The bed had been made and her panties, bra and stockings were folded neatly on the end of the bed. Next to them, a pair of grey sweatpants and a Harvard t-shirt had been left for her. Her shoes were set primly side by side on the floor below and with them, her purse. Her skirt and blouse were nowhere to be seen.

She stared at the pile, unable to get past the fact that Rafael had put them there. Rafael had touched her underwear and... She felt dizzy all of a sudden and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes to fight off the nausea and was assaulted by a vivid memory of Rafael’s large, warm hands gliding over her skin, up under her top, her bra loosening as they’d approached her aching breasts. Moans of desire and anticipation escaping her throat as they’d moved ever closer to where she’d wanted them, squeezing, stroking, caressing.

Grimly, she put on her underwear. Over that, the t-shirt and sweatpants. She looked in the mirror; the t-shirt was a little tight over her chest, but it would have to do. Besides, it was a little late for her to be worrying about modesty. She stuffed her stockings into her purse and, carrying her shoes, opened the other door and was met by the heady fragrance of freshly brewed coffee. She sniffed longingly and stepped out. She found herself on the landing of a short stairway that led down to a living room and adjoining kitchen.

Rafael, now fully dressed, was standing in the kitchen carefully and contritely pressing the wrinkles out of her blouse with a steam iron. And he was doing a rather a good job too, she noticed. Her skirt, already pressed, hung on the open door.

“Hi,” she said shyly as she entered.

He looked up at her. “Find everything?” he asked. She nodded and ventured further in. “There's coffee in the pot,” he told her.

“Thanks.” She crossed to the kitchen and poured the steaming black brew into the mug that had obviously been set there for her. Fresh ground. So much nicer than her usual instant. Sipping gratefully, she went back and focused on Rafael. He looked so different away from the office; softer, somehow.

“I can finish that,” Olivia gestured toward the iron.

He nodded. “I'll just go and...” he gestured up the stairs.

She nodded. They gave each other wide berth in passing. Olivia lifted the iron and got to work. Just before he made the stairs she spoke. “There's one thing...” He froze. “Were we... safe... last night?” Her voice shook slightly. She kept her eyes firmly on her ironing. There was a lengthy silence. Then she heard him swallow.

“There is... evidence... to that effect,” he said.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she exhaled in relief. Good. No drunk driving and no unprotected sex. Not that there was much chance of her getting pregnant. She was clean too and she was pretty sure he was, but she didn’t like the thought that she could be reckless when so inebriated.

When she heard him turn on the shower she quickly changed back into her old clothes and fished her cell phone out of her purse to call a taxi to take her home before she realised with chagrin that she didn’t know the address to ask them to pick her up.

Then another memory welled up from the deep. Coming through the door, she’d slid on something.  Rafael had caught her, nearly going down himself. Olivia smiled. Post. Letters and bills; that's what she'd nearly slipped on. She guessed correctly that the front door was to the side of the stairway. The mail was on the floor. She scooped it up and noted the address before pitching the loose envelopes on a table probably placed for that very purpose. She began to dial.

He was coming down the stairs as she finished her call.

“I called a taxi,” she told him. “It should be here in a few minutes.”

“Ah. Right.”

A few minutes. How to fill those minutes? This was hell. They stood not quite facing each other, arms folded. Olivia gestured toward Rafael’s CD collection which she'd perused idly while on the phone. “I never figured you for Bowie fan.”

“Oh yeah. From a long time ago.”

“I would have guessed more classical and possibly soft jazz.”

“Can’t stand jazz and as for classical I…,” he told her, his voice trailing off. They looked at each other in confusion. “Didn’t we already have this conversation?” he asked.

“I think so... at the bar, I think. At least I'm pretty sure.”

He groaned softly. “Liv,” he shook his head slowly. “I am _so_ sorry about...”

She held up her hands to stop him. “Don't,” she said. “You don't owe me an apology.”

“But I do. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

The memory had come back to him whilst in the shower and as he said the words, Olivia remembered too. They’d both had a fair bit to drink and as the alcohol lowered their inhibitions, their gentle teasing had soon crossed the line into flirting and they’d touched each other more readily; her hand on his knee, his arm draped over the back of her chair, fingers brushing her shoulder. After a couple of hours – more than enough time to be considered ‘making nice’ in Olivia’s opinion – they’d left.

The cold air that had hit them as they stepped outside, caused her to shiver and Rafael had offered her his jacket. As he wrapped it around her shoulders, she’d smiled at him. Seconds later, she was pressed against the wall, Rafael’s mouth on hers.  Neither could be sure how long they had stood there, lips locked and arms wandering, a wolf-whistle from a passer-by broke the spell momentarily. Rafael had grabbed her hand and hailed a cab, where their kisses had continued on the back seat.

Rafael rubbed his hand across his face. Had he taken advantage of his best friend? He didn’t remember asking her consent. He’d like to think he had, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Rafa, I’ve had self-defence training, so you obviously didn't drag me here against my will or I’d have beaten you off…” She smiled mischievously. “Or shot you.” And we both know that you’re not the type of guy who would pressure a woman into sex. What happened last night was something between consenting, albeit very drunk, adults.”

“It’s not that easy, Liv. How many times have you told me that intoxication takes away a woman’s ability to consent?”

“It _is_ that easy,” she insisted. “I promise you I don’t feel violated in any way. Embarrassed? Yes. Taken advantage of?” She shook her head. “Definitely not.”

They stared at each other. “Well,” he said finally. “At least let me pay.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

“WHAT?!”

Startled he looked at her. His eyes widened when he realized what she thought he meant. “For the taxi, Liv!” he pointed out the window where the driver had pulled up outside. “I meant for the taxi! It's the least I can do...” He put a hand over his eyes helplessly. “I didn't mean...I'd never...”

“Oh.” Olivia blushed scarlet. “The taxi. Oh.... No, that won't be necessary.”

Face flaming, she shouldered her purse and strode to the door, yanked it open and marched to the waiting taxi. She climbed in and, against her better judgement, looked back at the house. As the cab pulled away she could see Rafael standing in his doorway, once again rhythmically banging his forehead against the doorframe.

* * *

_Monday…_

Fin finished reading aloud the findings from the ME’s office and looked up from the paper to find he did not have an audience. Rafael stood at the window staring out and Olivia was staring at a point on the floor between them. Fin glanced down but couldn't see anything of interest. “So?” he asked, his eyes flicking from one to the other, “Any questions?”

Two faces turned toward him. “What?” they asked simultaneously.

“Am I the only one listenin’ to me?” Fin asked pointedly.

“Sorry.” Rafael sat down in his chair. “I have some prep work to do for a meeting with the new DA later today and my attention is... divided. Leave the findings with me. I'll go over it and get back to you.” Rafael shuffled some papers, not looking at him.

Fin looked over at Olivia, his expression quizzical. He hoped she could offer some insight into the ADAs behaviour, she normally could so he assumed she’d know what was wrong with him. She merely shrugged back noncommittally. They rose from their chairs and made their way toward the door.

“Liv,” Rafael called after her. “You got a minute?”

She stopped, glancing at Fin. He leaned toward her and noting the ADA’s mood, wished her, “Good luck.”

When Fin had left and the door was closed, Olivia turned to face Rafael. He looked at her steadily and she returned his gaze. “We should talk,” he said.

“Okay,” she agreed. He rose and walked around the desk, taking a seat on the sofa with his arms folded across his chest. She took the opposite end, mirroring his posture. They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“Liv, the other night was...” he stopped, searching for the right words.

“Actually quite nice,” she offered, blushing as she spoke. The memories had flooded back to her a few hours after she’d left Rafael’s house. She remembered every minute of their night together vividly. She was extremely thankful that her memories had returned, she didn’t know if she would be able to live with knowing she’d slept with him but not knowing what it had been like. Especially considering it wouldn’t be happening again.

A slight smile toyed with the corners of his mouth. “It all came back to you then?” he asked.        

“Yes; all of it… in great detail.”

“So, what does that mean?” Rafael asked meeting her gaze. “What happens now?”

“Nothing Rafael.” His smile faded. “We can’t do this; we have to maintain a professional relationship.” Even as she said the words she hated them; what she actually wanted to say was that of course, they could have a relationship outside of the office. That they would be able to fathom their way through it.

“Of course,” he nodded looking down at his hands. “I understand.”

“No, you don't,” she said simply. He looked up again and waited to hear the rest of it. Her eyes searched his face as though wondering how much she should say, what words she should use. “If it was just about you? About us? About the way I feel? Then it wouldn’t be an issue...”

“But?” he prompted gently.

“But it isn’t just about us. Dodds would have a coronary and I’m not sure the DA would fare any better. I can see the headlines now, can’t you? ‘Conflict of interest in the DA’s office!”

Rafael sat very still for a moment, thinking. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn’t prepared to lose her friendship by pushing the issue. “Okay. He sounded resigned; lost. “We'll always have The Flatiron Room,” he said, forcing a smile as he referenced Casablanca; one of her favourite films.

“Right, I’d better get back,” Olivia said, hating to see him so forlorn; knowing that she’d done this to him. She smiled at him apologetically, “I’m sorry Rafa. It’s not what I want; you _have_ to know that. It’s just…” she shrugged; she’d given him her reasons.

As she approached the door, Rafael saw his chance slipping away; if he didn’t convince her to give them a go now, he’d lose her forever. “If it’s not what you want then don’t do it,” he implored. She stopped, but continued to face the door, knowing that looking at him would make her task even harder. It didn’t deter Rafael however; he ploughed on. “Liv, you and I both know that we wouldn’t have ended up in bed together if there hadn’t been some underlying feelings. You’re not the kind of person who engages in drunken sex to satisfy a need and neither am I.” He stepped towards her, taking her hands in his. “Maybe when I was younger, but hell, Liv, I haven’t looked at another woman in five years; not since…” he took a breath. This was it, time to lay it all out there. “Not since I came to Manhattan and met you.”

“Rafa…” Her eyes widened, not expecting his admission.

“Why are we denying ourselves Liv? Because it’s in the best interests of the 1PP or the DA’s office? Screw them!” He leant forward to whisper in her ear. “We could be so good together, Liv. You know we could. Don’t walk away from this. From us.” He backed away and perched on the corner of his desk, knowing that she would need space to make her decision.

After a few seconds of consideration, she approached him and stood in between his legs. He couldn’t look at her though, worried about her answer. “Rafa?” Her tone was soft and she sounded… happy? That thought gave him a spark of hope and he slowly lifted his eyes until they met hers. She was smiling. “It probably won’t be easy but… you’re right. We should at least try.”

Relief flooded through him. “Do you mean that?”

Olivia nodded. “I’m not in the habit of lying Rafael. I wouldn’t do that to you; I couldn’t.”

He smiled at her then. “Have dinner with me? Tonight? I know a place I think you’ll like.”

“I’d love to,” she beamed, stretching up to kiss him; their first kiss since that night. It was full of energy and passion and Olivia was grateful that the blinds were closed. The kiss was better than either of them remembered, probably down to the fact that they were sober now. When they finally broke apart a few minutes later, both were breathing heavily. Composing herself, Olivia reluctantly pulled away. “I should get back to work,” she explained and headed for the door, turning back as she reached it. “What time are you picking me up?”

“Is seven too early?”

“Can we make it seven thirty? That way I can put Noah to bed.”

He nodded. “Seven thirty it is.”

She flashed him a hundred-watt smile. “I’ll see you later then.”

When she left his office, Olivia was still smiling. Fin, who had been speaking to Carmen whilst waiting for Olivia, glanced at her and then back to the office. Rafael had opened his blinds and was looking out; his eyes following Olivia as she left. she noticed Rafael’s eyes on her and she blushed, and glanced around, conscious of Carmen and Fin.

Watching his boss and the ADA, everything clicked together in Fin’s head; their growing closeness over the past few months, this morning’s awkwardness, Olivia’s smile, Rafael’s gaze and the way everything seemed to be sorted now they’d spent some time alone.

Fin grinned to himself; he had a feeling he’d just won the squad’s betting pool.


	4. The Return of Yelina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yelina Muñoz returns...

Prosecuting a public figure was never easy. It was a process filled with pitfalls and challenges. Roadblocks were thrown up from every direction. It was even harder when the perp was your ADA’s former best friend. That situation came with its own unique set of problems. And those problems didn’t just magically disappear when a conviction was secured. Oh no. Alex Muñoz had been convicted of possession of child pornography and political corruption almost 5 years ago but had last week announced that he was appealing his conviction.

Given all the media attention and comments, made by his wife, Yelina, it didn’t entirely come as a surprise for Olivia to find the woman in her office. Despite all the evidence against him, the woman – who was by all accounts quite intelligent - had chosen to stand by her man. Olivia couldn’t understand it, but she had made her choice. The years of friendship (and more) that she had shared with Rafael Barba had meant nothing when it had come down to it. She chose Alex, just as she had done all those years ago when she’d broken a younger Rafael’s heart.

This time, Yelina was determined to break more than his heart to get what she wanted. To gather momentum for her husband’s appeal she was going after Rafael to discredit him. Olivia had already fielded several calls from journalists asking questions about his conduct and his convictions. It seemed she wasn’t content with trying to blow apart his professional life, but his private life too. She’d been having him followed.

“I wonder what your bosses would say if they knew about this,” Yelina asked, waving a stack of photographs at Olivia before tossing them onto her desk.

Olivia barely gave the pile a second glance, she didn’t need to. She remembered every documented moment in vivid detail. A few dinners, drinks, a trip to the theatre or two… and some other things.

She couldn’t quite explain the shift in their relationship. She hadn’t gone looking for anything, especially not with him – she vowed never to date another lawyer after the David Haden fiasco. But it had snuck up on her. They’d worked well together and had, over the years, become friends. Somewhere along the line, he’d become her best friend. She felt closer to him than she ever had to anyone before, including Elliot. Then suddenly, quite unpredictably, it was something else. Without warning, their daily interactions were laced with a deeper meaning that left her breathless and longing for more. The casual touches became more frequent and prolonged and the looks they shared… suffice to say that they left her a little hot under the collar at times.

As she paced behind her desk, her hand caught the photo on the top of the pile and lifted it. She almost smiled as she recalled the event. It was weeks ago, which meant Yelina had been having him followed for a while. That incensed her, almost to the point where she couldn’t enjoy the photo. Rafael would like this one, she thought, once he’d gotten over his anger.

“Rafi is getting naughty in his old age,” drawled Yelina. “I mean, you’re practically making out and little league.”

Noah had been begging her to play T-Ball for a while and, once the weather had improved, she’d finally relented. Rafael had accompanied her to a couple of games. It had been Noah’s request at first, he’d insisted that the whole team be present for his first game and, being too young to understand the intricacies of the New York justice system, that included Rafael and Melinda as well as Munch and Cragen. Olivia hadn’t been sure Rafael would show, it was hardly his scene. But he’d surprised her (and the rest of squad) when he’d shown up, sans jacket, in jeans and a t-shirt and whooped and cheered at every ball Noah had hit and every catch he’d made.

That particular photo had been taken at a game a few weeks later when she was accompanied by only Rafael. She was leaning back against his legs as they sat on the bleachers watching, he on the level above her. He was bent forward, speaking to her while both their gazes were directed at the field. He had an arm casually draped over her shoulder, pointing at whatever they’d been discussing. It could have been explained away as entirely innocent… except for the way she was leaning to one side, against his knee, and the hand that was lying against his calf while she gestured in conversation with the other.

She supposed it did speak of a level of familiarity that wasn’t exactly simple, but it was hardly the most incriminating image that Yelina’s private investigator had caught.

Olivia picked up the next one on the pile. She felt her anger rising. It was a picture snapped on Rafael’s balcony, an intrusion that could not be forgiven. She easily recalled the evening, it was only last week. After attending a charity benefit in a professional capacity, they’d returned to his apartment for coffee and to wind down after a night of schmoozing and networking. She’d gone out onto his balcony for some fresh air, while the kettle boiled, and he had followed her. She stood against the railing, him behind, pressed up against her, his hands on her hips. Caught on camera was the moment he dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder, beside the thin strap of the red dress she had worn that night. She knew she couldn’t really complain about photos taken in public places such as the baseball field or out on the street. But his balcony, that was his private domain, an extension of his home. There was an expectation of privacy there.

“This stops now,” Olivia declared, waving the photos between them. “Or I will slap your PI with a restraining order.”

Yelina smirked. “Something to hide, Lieutenant?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

She met Yelina’s gaze. “No.” She and Rafael hadn’t been hiding the change in their relationship; they just hadn’t been advertising it. It would have to come out now though. Although she wasn’t relishing talking to Rafael about this.

“I can see the headlines now, ‘Conflict of interest in the DA’s office’. Your judgement will be brought into question. Every case you two have ever brought could be put under the microscope.”

Olivia nodded knowingly. “Including your husband’s? Is that what this is all about? You think by discrediting me, by discrediting Rafael, that it will help Alex’s case. Or is it about revenge for us going after him; for the fact that Rafael wouldn’t look the other way.”

“My husband is innocent,” Yelina snarled. “And I will do anything to get him out of jail and home.”

“If he was innocent, he wouldn’t be in jail in the first place,” Olivia retorted. She rounded the desk and stood in front of the other woman. “Your husband is where he belongs. And, as long as I am in charge here, I will make sure he stays there.”

Yelina met Olivia’s gaze intently. “We’ll see.” She turned on her heel and made to leave, her long woollen coat twirling around her knees. As she reached the door, she stopped, her hand on the doorknob. She turned back to Olivia. “I wouldn’t put much faith in a future with Rafi. He’s a self-absorbed workaholic with the beginnings of a drinking problem. Hardly father material. Not to mention his own father wasn’t exactly the shining example of a family man. Maybe you should ask Rafi about that scar above his left hip. Someone who’s been through what he has…” she shrugged her shoulders, “who knows what he’d do in a stressful situation.”

Olivia’s eyes flashed. “How dare you!” She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. Rafael had confided in her about the physical abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father, how he was worried he wouldn’t be a good with Noah because of his experience. She had spent hours reassuring him that he was already great with Noah and that she had faith in him. For Yelina to hone in on Rafael’s insecurities enraged her.

“Tell me, Lieutenant, does he still wake up screaming from the nightmares?”

“Get out!” Olivia spat, her teeth gritted.

“Gladly,” Yelina smirked, securing her purse on her shoulder before she strode from Olivia’s office.

* * *

“Everything okay?” Fin enquired when Olivia emerged from her office, a couple of minutes after Yelina had stalked out.

She pursed her lips. “Mrs Muñoz was just imparting her advice on my personal relationships.”

Fin raised an eyebrow; surprised at Olivia’s honesty. It was clear to anyone with eyes and half a brain that there was something between Olivia and Barba. It had been brewing for a while now. But neither of them addressed it directly with any of the squad.

Feeling confident, Fin pushed a little further. “You gonna listen to her?”

“I doubt it,” Liv replied before a familiar giggle from across the office drew her attention. Lucy had arrived with Noah and it seemed they’d met Rafael on their way up. From the carefree look on his face, she would guess he had managed to unknowingly avoid Yelina as she left. She smiled as Rafael lifted Noah onto his hip with practised ease – a far cry from the first time he’d held him – and tickled his tummy.

Rafael motioned to the break room and Olivia nodded. She would join them shortly. Preferably before Noah managed to convince Rafael that chocolate before dinner was a good idea.

Turning back to Fin, she lay a hand on his shoulder. “The Rafael Barba I know,” she continued, “is not the same man she knew.”

As she made her way to the break room, Fin’s voice reached her ears once more. “Liv!” She turned back to face him. “I know you’ve not asked for my opinion and you probably don’t give a damn what I think, but…” he nodded in the direction of the break room. “…it’s a good fit.”

She glanced at her son, who was pointing at several items in the vending machine. and Rafael who was no doubt trying to convince him that all the sugar he was suggesting wasn’t very healthy. She beamed at the sight. “You’re right, it is.”


	5. Noah's First Day of School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slightly AU look at Noah's first day of school.

Olivia Benson sat across the table from her son. The only sound was the scraping of spoons on the ceramic bowls. Noah would normally be chatting away, telling her about all the wonderful adventures he and Eddie had had in his dreams but not today. She wasn’t too worried; she’d expected he would be a little nervous about his first day of school.

She watched as Noah chased his remaining Cheerios around the bowl and until he finally cornered them. The five-year-old grinned triumphantly before gobbling up the last Os. Swallowing, he moved to leave the table.

“Hey!” Olivia said, pointing to the milk left in his bowl.

Noah shrugged his shoulders as if it was the first time he had ever been told to finish his milk. Olivia gave him a stern look and Noah complied, sipping the milk from the bowl slowly.

Clearing the dishes from the table, Olivia instructed Noah to go and find his shoes. She’d just finished rinsing their breakfast dishes when there was a loud rap on the door.

She turned off the tap and snatched the towel from its place hanging over the oven door handle. She walked through the apartment, drying her hands. Looking through the peep-hole and seeing who was on the other side of the door, she hurried to open it.

She had not expected to find Rafael Barba stood on her doorstep. At eight o’clock on a Monday morning. Dressed casually; in jeans and a puffer jacket.

“Hey,” she greeted.

He stepped over the threshold and glanced around the apartment. Not seeing Noah, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Olivia’s. She smiled into his kiss.

Three weeks, two days and ten hours. That’s how long it had been since she and Rafael had given in to their deepening feelings for one another.

“Good morning,” he whispered as they reluctantly parted.

“Morning. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“It’s Noah’s first day of school, right? I thought you could both do with some moral support.”

“What about work?”

He shrugged. “I took a personal day.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “I bet that news gave the DA a heart attack,” she teased, trying to cover up the emotions that his action had stirred in her. Leave was precious in their line of work and he had used some of it to be there and support her, knowing that today would probably be tough on her.

He leant in close and whispered in her ear. “You’re worth it. You and Noah.”

She bit her lip so as not to let the tears fall. She was emotional enough as it was today, the last thing she needed was Rafael saying sweet things like that and tipping her over the edge.

Fortunately, Noah, having found his shoes, chose that moment to return to the living room and provide a welcome distraction.

“Uncle Rafa!” Noticing their visitor, Noah ran the length of the apartment, arms outstretched, to greet him. It was the most animated he had been all morning.

Rafael bent down and gave the boy a hug. “Buenos Dias, Noah.”

“Buenos Dias,” Noah replied.

Rafael had been speaking Spanish to Noah for as long as Olivia could remember. Just simple things like greetings and common phrases, but he had picked it up and Olivia hoped that it would continue.

“Are you taking me to school too, Uncle Rafa?”

“I’d like that. If you don’t mind?”

Noah turned to Olivia. “Can he, Momma? Please?”

“I don’t see why not.” She smiled down at the two men in her life. “Are you ready, sweet boy?” she asked Noah.

Noah picked up his Ironman bag, slipping it onto his shoulder. He nodded slowly. “I guess so.”

* * *

“So, are you looking forward to your first day, amigo?” Rafael asked as the three of them walked, hand-in-hand down the street.

Noah shrugged, kicking a pebble down the street. “I suppose.”

Rafael looked enquiringly at Olivia over the top of Noah’s head. She pressed her lips together and shrugged lightly. She’d had numerous conversations with Noah over the weeks since they’d attended his ‘Meet the Teacher’ event, trying to quell his nervousness. But no matter what she said, it didn’t seem to make any difference. Rafael stopped walking and pulled them both to the side of the sidewalk. Bending down, he put a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be nervous, Noah,” he said.

The little boy looked at him curiously. “Were you nervous on your first day?”

“I was.” Rafael nodded, remembering his first day vividly. “But then I met Eddie and Alex, and everything was fine.” It hadn’t been completely fine, but Noah didn’t need to hear the stories about how the kids from PS-19 had beaten him up and stolen his lunch money. Eddie and Alex had made his school years bearable, and that’s what Noah needed to know now. That he would meet people who would play with him, make him laugh, stand up for him and have his back when he needed it.

“Were they your friends?”

Rafael nodded. “The very best of friends.” He swallowed thickly. Even now, five years later, Alejandro’s actions sickened him. He still struggled to wrap his head around the fact that his friend had not only lied to him but had also tried to coerce him into looking the other way.

“But what if I don’t make any friends?” Noah asked, panic filling his voice. “What if no-one likes me?”

“You’ll make loads of friends, amigo. I promise. So many, that your Mami will have to find a bigger place for your birthday party because there’s no way they’ll all fit in your apartment! Unless they want to stand on one another's heads,” he joked.

Noah laughed at the image Rafael’s words painted.

“Maybe we’ll just have to book ‘The Playroom’ after all,” he told Noah with a wink.

Olivia rolled her eyes. This was a debate she and Noah had been having for the past few weeks. He was desperate to celebrate his birthday at the large soft play venue. But it was a little pricey and, as much as Olivia wanted him to have a good time, she didn’t want to set a precedent that she may not be able to live up to in coming years.

“Really?” Noah looked up at his Mom.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” she said, taking his hand to continue their journey. “Come on, you’re going to be late.”

As they approached the school gates, Noah’s grip on Olivia’s and Rafael’s hands tightened. “I’m scared.”

“You’ll be okay, sweet boy.”

Rafael, stroked the back of Noah’s hand with his thumb. “It’s going to be a good day Noah. You’ll do lots of fun things and maybe at recess you’ll get to play on the jungle gym you were telling me about.”

The pirate ship jungle gym – with two slides and a rope bridge - was the only thing Noah had wanted to talk about following his pre-visit to the school, so Rafael hoped that mentioning it now would lift his spirits.

A few moments later, Noah’s teacher spotted the three of them stood in the yard and, noticing Noah’s apprehension, approached them. She addressed Noah first.

“Hi Noah. Do you remember me? I’m Mrs Vega.”

Noah nodded. “Hi,” he mumbled.

Olivia held out her hand. “I’m Olivia Benson, Noah’s Mom.”

Mrs Vega shook her hand. “Yes, I remember. It’s nice to see you again.” She turned to Rafael. “And you must be Noah’s Dad?”

Olivia glanced at Rafael, unsure how he would react to being described as a father. Whether or not he had ever wanted children wasn’t a topic that had come up between them. The only thing she knew for sure was that he understood that Noah would be a factor in their relationship and that he was fine with that. He’d told her that on their first date, but that didn’t mean he was looking to be a full-time parent.

“Rafael Barba,” he introduced, shaking Mrs Vega’s hand, not correcting her assumption that he was Noah’s father.

“Nice to meet you.” Turning back to Noah, she held out her hand. “Do you want to go and join your classmates in the line?”

He turned to his Mom and Uncle Rafa, worrying the strap on his bag. Olivia bent down, and Noah wrapped his arms around her neck, clinging on tightly. “It’s okay, sweet boy,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “I love you and I’ll be back to pick you up later, okay?”

Noah nodded and, with a few more words of encouragement from Olivia, he reluctantly let her go.

Rafael ruffled the boy’s brown curls. “See you later amigo. Have fun.”

“Bye Momma. Bye Uncle Rafa.”

Noah turned and walked across the playground towards his waiting classmates.

“Hi,” one of the said. “I like your bag. Ironman is the best!”

Noah nodded. “He is. Hey, watch this.” Noah slipped his bag off his shoulder and pressed the yellow circle on the front so it lit up.

“Woah! That’s so cool,” Noah’s new classmate exclaimed. He beckoned some of the other boys over. “Hey. Look at this.”

Noah repeated the action, showing them what his new school bag could do. Soon he was surrounded by boys, all asking if they could have a turn. The Ironman bag had made him an instant hit with his classmates.

Watching on, Olivia reached for Rafael’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Your gift seems to have worked. Uncle Rafa to the rescue.”

A small smile crept onto Rafael’s lips as he watched Noah show off the bag he had bought him as a starting school present. He hadn’t intended to buy him anything, but he’d seen it in a shop while out with his Mami. He’d seen several children crowded around the bag, gasping and laughing, and he’d thought that if Noah had that bag, he’d at least have a something to talk about with the other boys in his class. It looked like he’d been right too. All the boys were smiling as they got to have a turn at making the bag light up. Their easy acceptance of Noah seemed to boost the little boy’s confidence and he turned and pointed his Mom and Rafael out to his new friends.

Convinced that Noah would be fine, Rafael tugged on Olivia’s hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. He looks okay. I mean, it’s already better than the first time I left him at daycare. He sobbed his little heart out. I’d never felt so guilty.”

They walked out of the school gates, both glancing back to check on Noah one final time. He was laughing and joking with one of the other boys. The sight calmed Olivia’s nerves, and a lightness settled over her. As they neared her apartment, Olivia leant across to whisper in Rafael’s ear.

“It occurs to me,” she mused, “we’re both off work, Noah is in school...” Her fingers travelled up his back and her nails scraped the nape of his neck. “And my apartment will be empty…

“Is that so?” smirked Rafael, instantly picking up on her train of thought.

“Mm-hmm. No one to hear us… or interrupt us…”

“Sounds perfect.” Rafael looked at his watch. “Noah gets out at two-thirty right?”

Olivia nodded. “Yes. Which gives us 6 hours until we need to pick him up.”

He increased his pace and pulled on her hand. “Come on then, let’s make the most of it...”


	6. Love Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not funny,” Rafael retorts. “And this isn’t funny either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my entry into the Barson Valentine's Day Fic-A-Thon on Tumblr. My prompt was 'scarf'

Oh God, it’s ugly.

That is Rafael’s first thought upon seeing it. He stands, bare-chested, staring furiously at it in the en-suite mirror as if that will somehow scare it away. Parts of it are bright red, others purple and he can already tell it is only going to get worse before it gets better. It doesn’t help that the surrounding skin is unmarred, drawing further attention to it and, unfortunately, there’s no denying what it is.

He fingers the skin, glancing at Olivia’s reflection in the mirror. It’s early, just gone five-thirty but, despite the hour, she looks gorgeous. Her hair is tousled from sleep, and she’s wearing nothing but his dress shirt and her panties.

“What’s the matter?” she grins at him through the open doorway. “Want me to do the other side too so you’ll match?”

“You’re not funny,” Rafael retorts. “And _this_ isn’t funny either.” He uses the fingers of both hands to stretch the skin, examining the damage more closely.

“It is a little, actually.” Walking up behind him she wraps her arms around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. She meets his eyes in the mirror. “I didn’t hear you protesting at the time.”

She’s right of course, he hadn’t. In fact, he vaguely remembers encouraging her. But that was before he realised he’d have to sit through a meeting with Rita Calhoun with an obvious hickey.

“Well, no but…”

She hadn’t meant to brand him like that; she’d just gotten carried away. It had been one of the few nights since their relationship began that they’d had the apartment to themselves. Noah stayed over at Amanda’s – she and Carisi took him and Jessie to a Sunday afternoon showing of the movie ‘Coco’ and offered to keep him overnight to allow Olivia some ‘me time’.

Needless to say, she and Rafael took full advantage of it, spending a very enjoyable afternoon and evening in bed. Olivia hadn’t even realised she’d left a mark on him until his outraged cry woke her a few moments ago.

Olivia sweeps her hair off her shoulder, exposing a similar red mark on her own skin, just below her ear. It seems she hadn’t been the only one who got carried away.

“Hey look. I got one too, but you don’t see me complaining.”

“Yours isn’t anywhere near as big as mine,” he points out. He knows he’s being difficult, petulant even, but he can’t help it. “And you have hair that can cover it.” He sighs. “You couldn’t have aimed a bit lower, so it would be underneath my collar? I can’t go to work like this; I’m meeting with Rita this afternoon. If she sees this, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Olivia rolls her eyes and steps back, retreating to the bedroom. He follows her, after a shooting a few more hard glances at the offending mark on his neck, to find her on her hands and knees – rooting in the bottom of her closet. Her position provides him with a rather tantalising view and for a second he’s transported back to the previous evening, some of his earlier annoyance fading away.

Olivia mumbles a quick, ‘a-ha’ when she finds what she is looking for. Using the bedframe for leverage, she pushes herself up off the floor and onto the bed. She hands him a small wrapped package. The paper was silver, adorned with red hearts. “I was saving this to give you for Valentine’s Day, but in light of your… situation,” she gestures at his neck, “it might be more beneficial now.”

With a small tilt of his head, Rafael takes the proffered gift from Olivia. He peels back the end flaps of the wrapping paper carefully before slowly sliding his finger underneath the seam. From inside, he removes a grey, lidded box. Upon opening the box, he finds a black, plaid scarf. His fingers run slowly over the material, enjoying its softness.

Rafael’s brow furrows. “You bought me a scarf?”

She sits on the mattress, crossing her legs in front of her. “Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, Liv.” He drops a kiss to the top of her head. “You have good taste _mi amor_ ; it’s exactly the kind of thing I’d have picked for myself. Thank you.”

“I know we said we weren’t going to do presents but…” she shrugs. “I saw it in a shop window and I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Why though? It’s almost Spring.”

“You’ve lost yours, and I felt sorry for you the other night, standing outside Forlini’s, waiting for our Uber. You were clearly freezing. And who knows how long this latest cold snap will last?”

“My Cuban blood is not meant for New York in winter,” he agrees. Especially this winter, the temperatures had been at a record low, thanks to the recent blast of Arctic air the city had been hit with. “But I’ve told you, my scarf isn’t lost, it’s just… misplaced.”

Olivia scoffs. “Whatever you say counsellor.”

In truth, Rafael doesn’t have a clue where it is, he just doesn’t want to admit that to Olivia. The last time he remembers having it was two weeks ago in the back of an Uber after they’d been on a date. But, he rationalises, when you’re splitting your time between your apartment, your office and your girlfriend’s apartment things are bound to go missing. He wonders if five months is too soon to be thinking about doing something about that aspect of their relationship.

He’s sure his scarf will turn up eventually. The chances are Noah has hidden it somewhere; hiding Rafael’s things has become his new favourite game. Although, usually it’s his keys or his phone; things that the five-year-old thinks that Rafael won’t be able to leave without. In his mind, if ‘Uncle Rafa’ doesn’t have them, he will stay at the apartment and play with him some more. It’s flattering – he’s amazed and humbled at the boy’s affection for him, but it has almost made him late for court on several occasions.

“Rafa?” Olivia’s voice breaks into his contemplations. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry, mi amor, what were you saying?”

“That until your misplaced scarf turns up, you’ll have another. Although I can’t believe you, of all people, only owned one scarf to begin with.” It astounds her. This is the man who owns ties and suspenders in almost every imaginable colour and pattern, yet he only had one scarf!

“When you’re finished criticising my wardrobe choices, do you think you could you explain exactly how this supposed to help me today?”

“It’s a scarf,” Olivia said, as if the answer should be obvious. “You wear it around your neck.”

“Yes, when you’re outside. Rita is coming to my office. It’s not like we’re meeting on the ski-slopes of Gstaad,” he deadpans.

Olivia holds back her eye-roll. “Wear it anyway. Call it a fashion statement.” She grins mischievously. “Or you could always turn the heaters off and tell Rita they’re broken.” She takes the woollen material from him, looping it around his neck. “See, problem solved. You can’t even see it.”

He is unconvinced, glancing over his shoulder to try and make it out in the bathroom mirror. “Really?”

Olivia pulls gently on the scarf, bringing his face down to meet hers. “Really,” she murmurs against his lips before capturing them in a heated kiss.

As Rafael pushes her back down onto the bed, he vaguely remembers that it is exactly this type of activity that got him into this predicament to begin with. But, as she rolls them over and straddles his hips, he finds he doesn’t care…


	7. Being There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-ep for Granting Immunity (S16, E19)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched the episode, 'Granting Immunity' last night and as usual felt it was lacking a Barson scene at the end so I did what every fic writer does when they're dissatisfied with canon.... I wrote my own!

The knock on the window echoed through the quiet hospital room, startling Olivia. The hour was late and Amaro and Fin had left a while ago and she wasn’t expecting any further visitors. She looked up to find Rafael stood there, a Styrofoam cup in each hand. She glanced down Noah, who was now sleeping peacefully and ran a hand over his soft, brown hair before standing and heading out into the corridor.

She stripped off the yellow hospital gown and threw it into the bin, before stepping out of the unit to greet Rafael.

“Hey.” He handed her one of the cups he was holding. “Don’t worry; it’s herbal tea. Figured you’d probably had more than enough caffeine this week.

She lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. “Mmm. Thank you.”

Rafael walked over to the window and gazed at Noah’s sleeping form lying in the hospital cot in nothing but his diaper, connected to a tangle of wires. He was pale except for the rash on his torso and thighs. It tugged at Rafael’s heartstrings to see him like that. “How’s he doing?”

Olivia joined him. “Better. They think the worst is over.”

“That’s good.”

Olivia nodded. “They want to keep him in a couple more days for observation, but we should hopefully be home at the weekend.”

As Rafael watched the rise and all of Noah’s chest, he considered how different things had become since this little boy had come into Liv’s life. He’d joked with her a few weeks previously that motherhood had brought out her sweet side, but there was a hint of truth behind her. Fostering Noah had changed her. It had changed the people around her too, including himself. He was more conscious about the times he called her and the pressure he put on her out of her rostered hours. And then there was this case. He couldn’t honestly say he would have pursued it if hadn’t been for Noah. It wasn’t that he had been infected, it was that no his colleague, his friend was a mother, he had a deeper grasp and understanding of the impact of cases like these.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get the felony conviction,” he whispered as he lay his hand against the cool glass.

“You don’t need to apologise. Trudy Malko is going to jail and hopefully, the press coverage will be enough to educate people about the dangers of not vaccinating their children.”

“Yeah, but still…”

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Noah began to stir, and Olivia dropped her hand and moved to return to his room. “Thanks for stopping by.” She held up her cup. “And for the tea.”

“It’s no problem, honestly.” His gaze was drawn back to Noah. “Liv?”

She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. “Yeah?”

He rocked back and forth on his heels and waved at hand in the direction of Noah’s hospital room. “Do you think I could… maybe… come in and say hi?”

“To Noah?”

Rafael nodded. “If you think he’s well enough? I have something for him...” He pointed to a gift bag that he’d left on the chair before tapping on the window.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Olivia admonished but flashed him a grateful smile anyway.

He shrugged. “Well, I did. So… can I?”

“You’ll have to gown up.”

He flashed her a half smile. “I know.” He tossed his now empty coffee cup into the trash and picked up the gift.

She held open the door and beckoned him through. “Okay. Sure.”

* * *

It took them a few minutes to gown up, Noah growing restless on the other side of the glass when he saw his Mom. Entering the room, Olivia rushed to his side, cuddling and comforting him while Rafael held back, not wanting to startle or distress the boy. As he waited, he watched Olivia interact with the boy who would soon, hopefully, be her son. She was a natural with him and Rafael couldn’t help but think that motherhood suited her as Noah babbled away and she spoke back to him as if she was understanding every word he said.

With Noah calm, Olivia beckoned Rafael over and he sank in the hard, plastic chair next to hers. Noah’s regarded him curiously, watching with interest.

“Noah, you remember Uncle Rafael, right?”

Rafael raised an eyebrow at her as he heard how she referred to him in front of her son.

“What?” she asked, smirking. “You want him to call you Barba or Counsellor?”

“No, I just… Uncle?” He hadn’t really given much thought to how Noah would address him when he began talking, but he’d never expected to be ‘Uncle Rafael’.

“The rest of the squad have been calling themselves Uncle and Aunt, so I assumed…” Olivia felt the blush rising in her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I can stop. What would you-”

Rafael laid a hand on hers, silencing her. “No. It’s okay… Uncle Rafael? I think I like it...” He turned to Noah and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Hey amigo. You feeling better now?”

Noah babbled back at him incoherently.

“I’ll take that as a yes. So, I brought you something for being so brave.” Rafael reached into the gift bag and pulled out a soft, plush elephant. “This… is Eddie.”

Noah’s eyes lit up at the sight of the new toy and he reached for it immediately, clutching it to his chest.

“I think he likes it,” Olivia observed with a chuckle.

Rafael smiled. “I’m glad. I don’t have much experience buying gifts for children, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with a stuffed animal.”

As Noah played with his new elephant, Rafael let his gaze wander over Olivia. Without makeup, he could see the lines around her eyes and mouth, made more prominent by her drawn appearance. The freckles that were usually covered by her make-up stood out in stark contrast to her pale complexion. The last few weeks had been a roller coaster for her. And this wasn’t the first time Noah had been in the hospital; his respiratory issues had meant Olivia had spent more than her fair share restless nights in the ER and Paediatric ICU.

They sat playing with Noah for an hour, Rafael marvelling at the little boy. He’d never spent any significant period of time with the boy before and was only now realising just how remarkable he was. Eventually, he tired himself out and Olivia got him to lie down. He soon drifted off to sleep, chewing on Eddie’s trunk.

“If you want to go grab a bite to eat or take a nap, I can stay with him,” Rafael offered.

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” she said, stifling a yawn.

He raised a perfectly arched brow. “Really?” he asked with a smirk. “You should rest. We’ll be fine. I mean,” he indicated the crib. “It’s not like he can go anywhere?”

“I don’t want to leave him,” she admitted.

Rafael tilted his head at her. She was being strong for Noah, but it wasn’t easy doing it on her own. She was exhausted. Rafael vowed to be around more to support her. He reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him so that her head was lay on his shoulder. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on Noah.”

“Maybe just for a few minutes,” she said, letting her eyes drift closed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep them open.

“Just for a few minutes,” Rafael agreed. He would let her sleep for as long as he could, however. She needed the rest.

Olivia wouldn’t truly relax until she got Noah home, but she allowed herself to drift off into a light slumber as Rafael covered her with a blanket, the knowledge that her best friend was there, watching over them both, comforting her.


	8. An Easter Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easter Sunday morning at Olivia Benson's apartement

Easter Sunday dawned bright and clear in New York and found Rafael Barba knelt at Olivia’s coffee table scribbling away. With a final flourish of his pen, he finished the note he had been writing and attached it to his girlfriend's Easter basket. He’d been planning this surprise for the last few weeks, but work had kept him busy for the past few days, so he was having to finish getting it ready at the last minute. Picking up the now finished basket, Rafael stood, slowly from the floor – his knees popping in protest – and headed to the kitchen.

“What are you doing with that Easter basket, Uncle Rafa? The Easter Bunny won’t like you moving it.”

Rafael stopped short at the sound of Noah’s voice resounding through the quiet apartment. He looked up to see the little boy, still clad in his pyjamas, standing in the doorway to his room. While Olivia was still sleeping, after staking out a suspected brothel with the team the previous night, Noah, it seemed was wide awake.

“Morning, _mijo_. It’s okay,” Rafael assured, thinking on his feet. “This is your _Mami’s_ basket and the Easter Bunny knows all about what I’m doing with it.”

“He does?”

Rafael nodded. “I wanted to plan a surprise for your _Mami_ and the Easter Bunny said he’d help but he was so busy delivering everyone’s eggs last night that he didn’t have time, so I need to finish it off myself. Do you want to help?” The original plan had included Noah helping his mom with her surprise, but maybe he could help with some of the preparation too.

“Okay,” Noah agreed. He loved it when he and Uncle Rafa were in ‘cahoots’ as his mom had referred to it. And now he was sure that no harm would be coming to his mom’s Easter basket, he was excited to help. “Can I open my Easter basket first?”

The large basket in the centre of the coffee table had drawn Noah’s attention the moment he entered the living room, but he’d been distracted by Rafael’s antics. Now though, it was calling to him, begging to be opened.

“I think we’d better leave that until your _Mami_ wakes up,” Rafael suggested, knowing Olivia would want to share in the experience. “But…” he held out a small foil-wrapped chocolate egg that was left over from Olivia’s basket, “you can have this one.”

Noah beamed and plucked the egg from Rafael’s open hand. Ripping off the foil, he listened intently to Rafael explain his plan and then, once the egg was gone and Noah’s chocolate-covered hands were clean, the two of them set to work.

* * *

By the time Olivia padded out of the bedroom an hour later they were all set. Rafael emerged from the kitchen and handed her a mug of steaming coffee as Noah ran over excitedly.

“Momma, momma! The Easter Bunny came! Look.”  He took her by the hand and dragged her over where his rather large Easter basket still sat, untouched, on the coffee table.

“I see that, sweet boy. Aren’t you lucky?”

Noah nodded. “Can I open it now. I’ve been waiting forever!” He dragged out the final word to indicate his impatience.

“Go on then,” Olivia smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. Rafael joined her on the sofa and they watched Noah tear into his basket, pulling out assorted chocolate eggs, the largest of which was iced with his name. There were chocolate animals too; bunnies, chicks and lambs, as well as some Lego and a set of new crayons.

“Thanks, Momma. Thanks, Uncle Rafa.” Although he believed the basket had come from the Easter Bunny, he also believed that his mom and Rafael had told the Easter Bunny what to bring. He gave them both a hug before returning to the coffee table and picking up the folded piece of paper.  

“The Easter Bunny left something for you too, Momma,” Noah said, holding the paper out for her.

With a furrowed brow, she took the paper from her son, noting her name scrawled across the front in Rafael’s familiar penmanship. Opening it, she began to read.

_“Follow the clues_   
_to a gift for you._   
_The first one’s easy_   
_it’s in your shoe.”_

The clue had been decorated by Noah’s own hand. Purple and orange Easter Eggs adorn the edges; the two crayons that are the most popular in the little boy's palette.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at Rafael – they’d agreed not to buy each other anything for Easter – but he merely shrugged and flashed her his trademark half-smile. “Looks like the Easter Bunny has left you some clues, Lieutenant.”

“Good job I’m a trained detective then,” she quipped, before turning to her son. “But I could still probably use some help. What do you say, Noah, will you help me?”

The little boy nodded eagerly. Uncle Rafa had explained that they were finishing off his mom’s Easter Egg hunt, but he wouldn’t tell him where any of the eggs were hidden or read the clues to him. So, he was keen to see where they were hidden.

“So, my shoe?”

“Yeah, but which one. You have like, millions,” Noah said, eliciting a snort from Rafael.

Olivia threw her boyfriend a mock glare and held out her hand for her son. “Well, we’d better get searching then, hadn’t we?”

It didn’t take long to find the blue plastic egg in Olivia’s closet, hidden inside one of the black pumps with the three-inch heel that Rafael loved to see her wear. Noah cracked open the egg and two pieces of paper fluttered out. The first another clue and the second just one printed letter. A.

Olivia looked questioningly at Rafael, but all he offered was a vague comment.

“Best keep that safe,” he said. “Might be important later.”

She placed the letter A on her nightstand and turned her attention to the next clue, which included a drawing of a chick by Noah.

_“I have four legs_   
_but cannot walk_   
_You sit at me_   
_to use your fork.”_

“The table!” Noah yelled after a few seconds, running from the room.

Olivia and Rafael followed at a more sedate pace. “He’s going to be shattered before we get to church,” Olivia said.

“Well, at least one of use will have a good excuse for sleeping through the homily,” quipped Rafael. Mass was not something he enjoyed, but he attended with his mother at Christmas and Easter, under protest.

Olivia smacked his arm playfully as Noah ran back towards them waving another plastic egg. A green one this time. “I found it.”

At Rafael’s urging, Noah allowed Olivia to open it herself and, like previously, there was another clue and a letter. An R this time.

“Maybe it’s a message,” suggested Noah. “Or a secret code.”

“Why don’t you go and grab the other one from your _Mami’s_ bedside table, _mijo_ ,” Rafael suggested. “Put them both on the coffee table.”

Noah did as he was asked, and Rafael took the opportunity to say a proper good morning to his Olivia. He wrapped his arms around her. “Happy Easter, _cariño_ ,” he whispered, before brushing a light kiss on her lips.

Olivia leant into his embrace and kissed him back, lovingly. “Mmm. Happy Easter. You didn’t have to do all this, y’know. I thought we’d agreed no Easter gifts.”

“I don’t know what you mean. This is all the Easter Bunny’s doing, not mine.”

She lay her palms on his chest and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Okay. So, what’s with the letters?”

Rafael shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure all will be revealed,” he said cryptically. “I’m sure the Easter Bunny never does anything without a plan.”

Their conversation ended as Noah returned from his task, eager to continue the hunt.

“What does the next clue say, Momma?”

_“I’ve previously been jailed_   
_for ice-cream theft,_   
_you’d better hurry_   
_or there’ll be no eggs left.”_

“EDDIE!” Noah and Olivia chorused. Noah dashed to his room and found Eddie sat on his bed, three eggs at his feet. Two small chocolate ones and a pink, plastic one containing the letter E.

The hunt continued around the apartment, each clue coming with a letter.

_“The mail will come_   
_through thick and thin._   
_Take a look where_   
_the letters come in.”_   
_(Y)_

_“If you’re in_   
_a hungry mood,_   
_go here first_   
_o find some food.”_   
_(M)_

_“Well done, that’s great_   
_you’re nearly there._   
_Next go where_   
_you style your hair.”_   
_(M)_

_“You’ll find your basket_   
_in the machine,_   
_where the dirty_   
_clothes get clean.”_   
_(R)_

Olivia opened the washing machine to find a small Easter basket sat in the drum. Taped to the cellophane wrap was not a letter this time, but a question mark, alongside one final clue.

_“Rearrange the letters_   
_and you’ll find_   
_a question that’s_   
_been on my mind.”_

Olivia’s heart rate increased as she pondered what question Rafael could possibly have that would require this much effort and planning. There were only two she could think of; living together or marriage. She tried to recall the letters that she’d found, the ones Noah had dutifully placed on the coffee table after they’d solved each clue, but her mind had gone blank. She was sure she remembered an ‘M’ though.

Leaving the Easter basket on the floor of the utility room, Olivia’s legs felt heavy as she walked toward the coffee table, drawn forward by the letters arranged haphazardly by her son. Her stomach clenched and danced with nervous energy as she dropped to the sofa. Deep down, she knew what the question was – and what her answer would be – but still, she meticulously rearranged the letters. She had to be sure.

She gasped as the final letters slid into place, confirming what she already knew.

_M-A-R-R-Y   M-E-?_

She looked up to find Rafael on one knee, holding a yellow plastic egg. Her hand flew to her mouth and tears pooled in her eyes. Even though she’d been expecting the question, the sight of Rafael on bended knee, was almost overwhelming.

When Rafael made the decision to propose, he’d considered a whole host of romantic gestures, but none of them seemed to fit them; who they were as individuals, or their relationship. That wasn’t to say their relationship was devoid of romance, it wasn’t, but they weren’t people prone to grand gestures. This, here, with Noah present and involved, that was what felt right.

He’d had a whole speech prepared but now that it came down to it, he couldn’t seem to remember any of it. It didn’t matter though. Flowery words and phrases weren’t important. It was the sentiment and meaning behind the question that mattered.

“Liv…” He cracked open the egg and took out a ring, holding it out to her. It was simple, elegant. The early morning light sparkled on a single stone, and the platinum it was set in gleamed in clean, simple lines. “Will you marry me?”

Olivia blinked away the tears and forced her vocal chords into action. “Yes.”

Rafael’s face lit with the brightest smile. She said yes! Olivia Benson was going to be his wife.

She pushed off the sofa and sank to the floor in front of him, throwing her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his. He enveloped her in his arms and returned her kiss. When they parted, Rafael took her left hand in his.

“I love you,” he whispered as he slid the cool metal band onto her finger. His eyes sparkled. “I love you so much!”

Olivia lifted her gaze from the gorgeous ring that now adorned her fourth finger and studied every inch of his face. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so happy. Lifting her hand to his cheek, she smiled softly. “I love you too.”

Rafael turned to Noah, who was stood watching the proceedings with interest. “Do you understand what just happened, _mijo_?”

He nodded. “You asked Momma to marry you.”

“I did, and she said yes. Is that okay with you?” If Rafael thought Noah could keep a secret, he’d have spoken to him about it beforehand. As it was, the little boy was an open book and quite often told people things that he shouldn’t. Not something unusual for a five-year-old but not conducive to planning a surprise proposal.

Noah drew his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced at Rafael somewhat timidly.

“Go on, _mijo_ ,” Rafael encouraged. “You can ask whatever you want. No one will be mad at you, okay?”

Noah nodded. “If you and Momma get married...” he began, apprehension filling his features, “does that mean you’ll be my Dad?”

Noah’s question threw Rafael for a moment, and suddenly he was glad he didn’t speak to him about proposing before. He wouldn’t have been equipped to deal with this question on his own.

“Is… is that something you’d want?” he asked, putting the ball firmly in Noah’s court. The truth is, he would love nothing more than for Noah to call him Dad, maybe even Papi, but he won’t force it on the boy if that’s not something he’s comfortable with.

Slowly, Noah nodded his head. “I… I think so. I mean, you’re already kind of like my Dad, aren’t you?”

Rafael considered Noah’s words. He could see where he was coming from; he was already well on his way to fulfilling the role of ‘father’ in the little boy’s life. He took care of him, played with him, read to him, helped him with his homework. And he called him ‘ _mijo’_.

“I suppose I am, yeah.”

“So, it wouldn’t really be that different, except…” Noah trailed off, fiddling with the tie on his pyjama bottoms.

“Except what _mijo_?” Rafael prompted after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe… I could call you Dad?”

“You can call me whatever you want, _mijo_.”

“What, even ‘doofus’?”

Rafael laughed. “Well, no, maybe not that.” He pulled Noah to him and began to tickle him.

“Nooooo!” begged Noah through giggles as he attempted to wriggle away. But Rafael held on, continuing the tickle torture. “Momma, help!”

Olivia laughed, shaking her head at their antics. Anyone looking in now would have a hard time believing that Rafael had proposed not more than ten minutes ago. When you had a five-year-old, time for basking in romantic moments was curtailed slightly. But she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Eventually, Rafael stopped tickling Noah and, once the little boy’s giggling was under control, he settled him on his lap. “So, you’re okay with this, _mijo_? With me marrying your _Mami_?”

“Yeah.” Noah nodded. “You make her happy.”

Olivia drew in a breath at her son’s insightfulness. He was right, Rafael did make her happy. And in a way that she never expected to be. Once she’d adopted Noah, she’d been content to be alone. She certainly hadn’t expected to fall in love with her best friend. But fall in love she had, and now she had a son and a partner, no – a fiancé to share her life with.

She wrapped her arms around the two most important men in her life and hugged them close. “You _both_ make me happy.”  


	9. Responsibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could have been after the ending of 'Flight Risk' (19x11)

Olivia looked up from her laptop as Rafael entered her office. He’d text her fifteen minutes previously to tell her the outcome of the Grand Jury and to say he was going to pop in to see her on his way back to the office. “Congratulations on the indictment,” she said, closing the lid.

Rafael laughed. “The first thing Optimum will do is make a motion to dismiss, which they’ll win.” He lowered himself into the chair opposite her desk, dropping his briefcase on the floor. “But I get to appeal.”

“And you’ll win that?”

He leant back in his chair, laying his coat over his lap. “Sixty-forty against. But we got the wheels turning. If this law’s ever going to change, this is a good start.”

“Y’know, I thought,” Olivia began, holding up a copy of that day’s New York Ledger, “that Grand Jury proceedings were secret.”

“They are, but that courthouse leaks like a sieve.” He pressed his lips together. “Optimum’s stock is down 30 percent. They’ll be declaring bankruptcy by the end of the week.”

Olivia couldn’t be sure if Rafael had called the newspaper himself, but she had no doubt that he was involved somehow. The look of feigned innocence on his face gave him away. This was his way of making sure the people responsible paid for what they did. He knew he may not win his appeal so had punished them in another way – by ensuring their company would fail and therefore, never be able to treat women the way they had, ever again.

“You’re a feminist icon, Rafael.”

“Hmm. I do my best.” He shrugged. I think that earns me a nice, thick steak.” He had been rewarding himself for the big wins in the same way since Harvard. And occasionally, Olivia joined him. He didn’t even have to ask her outright anymore, she knew she was always welcome.

“I would love nothing more, but…”

“Responsibilities,” he finished for her, saving her having to decline his offer. He knew she needed to get home to Noah.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“I know,” he told her softly, smiling at her. It had taken him a while to realise that Olivia wasn’t turning down his invitations because she didn’t want to spend time with him, but because she had a young son at home.

It was his mother who had put him straight. After one too many glasses of scotch in her presence, Rafael had confessed that his feelings for Olivia were changing but that she didn’t seem interested in him as anything more than a friend. He’d used her turning down his offers of dinner as his evidence.

“Rafi,” Lucia had said, with her trademark eye roll. “ _Mijo_ , you have to remember that she is a mother and that will always come first. She works silly hours as it is. You both do. The times she can get home to her son before he sleeps, she will… And if you want to date Olivia, then you need to be prepared for everything that being in a relationship with a single mother brings. Cancelled dates, disrupted sleep, school recitals, doctor’s appointments, trips to the park and the soft play…”

She’d continued to reel off an endless list of things that he’d never considered before. But Rafael had stopped listening. He was struck by a sudden realisation. If he dated Liv and it worked out – which, given how close they were and how well they got along, it was very possible that it would – he would end up being a father figure to Noah. Even if the boy never called him ‘Dad’, he would be the prominent male role model in his life.

That thought gave him pause. He’d never thought about being a father before. He’d been too focused on his career and had just assumed that he’d think about it when he met the right woman.

And now he had. There was no doubt in his mind that if he was going to have a family with anyone, it would be Olivia. So, it was time to give it some serious consideration. Noah wasn’t the same as he had been when Rafael had first met him as a baby and held him rather awkwardly. He was his own little person now, with his own thoughts, feelings and opinions. And he could communicate fairly articulately. He thought back over all the times he had spent with Noah and he realised that he’d enjoyed himself. Noah brought out his long-buried goofy side and over time, Rafael had grown to care for the little boy.

He could see himself as Noah’s father figure if that was what Olivia and, of course, Noah wanted. But he also knew that, just like mothers, fathers had to put their children’s needs in front of their own. Something his own father never had. But Rafael wasn’t his father. He would do things differently. He would do right by Noah.

So, he stopped asking Olivia out for dinner and simply enjoyed the times that she met him for drinks. Sometimes those drinks extended to dinner if Olivia had had a quiet week at work and Noah was with a sitter. Other times, he would merely buy her one drink to help her shake off the day before putting in a cab home to her boy. Things were going well; they began to prep for trials at Olivia’s apartment and Rafael used this time to play and bond with Noah. They quickly discovered a shared love of Star Wars and robots, which helped the process no end. It wasn’t long before the little boy was calling him Uncle Rafa.

When Sheila Porter first arrived on the scene, Rafael, like Olivia, was wary. He didn’t want to see Noah or Olivia get hurt. Despite his initial misgivings, he’d supported Olivia when she’d decided to let Sheila see Noah and things had appeared to be going well. Sheila’s presence even had a positive effect on his relationship with Olivia. She would look after Noah, freeing Olivia up to spend time with him. They would grab a steak together after a big win or meet for drinks in Forlini’s while Sheila took Noah to the movies. It was nice. There was no pressure, things were progressing nicely. It was a little slower than Rafael would have liked, but at least they were moving forward.

But then all hell had broken loose and Sheila had kidnapped Noah. Olivia’s trust had been broken – not for the first time – and fear of leaving Noah with anyone when she didn’t have to, stopped her and Rafael from spending time alone together.

Rafael understood; she’d experienced a parent’s worst nightmare. It was only natural that she would want to keep Noah within her sight at all times. He could only hope that someday, she would feel more comfortable about leaving him again and they could recommence their evening drinks.

“So, what are you and the little man up to tonight?” he asked. He wasn’t just paying lip service, he was genuinely interested in what his friend had planned for the evening.

“Thursday is Taco Night. Then I promised him he could have a mini Paw Patrol marathon.”

Rafael laughed. Noah was obsessed with that show. “You’re a glutton for punishment.”

Olivia laughed. “I know, I know,” she said with a nod.

A knock on her office door drew their attention away from each other. As Chief Dodds entered, Rafael stood to leave. His actions; jailing a supposed hero and taking down a prominent airline, had not gone down well with everyone in the top brass and he didn’t feel like justifying himself to Olivia’s boss tonight. Not when he could better spend his time at the office – finishing the briefs he had to work on before grabbing that steak dinner.

“Say hi to Noah for me. Oh, and tell him, he still owes me that rematch.”

He nodded at Dodds and left, his coat slung over one arm.

Chief Dodds eyed Olivia sceptically. “A rematch?”

“Snap,” Olivia explained. “Noah beat him a few weeks ago but Ra- Barba…” Olivia quickly corrected her slip. “…Barba thought there was something underhand going on. He wanted a judicial enquiry. They compromised and settled on a re-match instead.”

* * *

Olivia and Noah were halfway through their tacos when Olivia’s phone beeped from where she had laid it on the counter.

“Who is it, Momma?” Noah asked, wiping his hands on a napkin.

Olivia looked at the screen and, seeing the name, picked up her phone. “It’s Uncle Rafa.” She opened the message.

 _THE WAIT FOR A TABLE AT MJ’S’ IS_  
H _ORRENDOUSLY LONG AND I’M BORED._  
 _HOW’S PAW PATROL?_

Olivia rolled her eyes as she typed a quick response.

_WELL YOU WILL INSIST ON EATING_   
_AT THESE SWANKY PLACES!_   
_WE’VE NOT STARTED PP YET._   
_STILL EATING._

“Is he coming over?” Noah asked as Olivia placed her phone back on the table.

She shook her head. “No, he’s out getting dinner.”

Noah’s face fell. “Oh.” He picked up a Taco and brought it to his mouth. “I miss Uncle Rafa,” he declared, before taking a large bite.

Olivia considered her son’s words and thought back to the last time he’d been here when Noah was awake. For about a week after the Sheila incident, Rafael had been a regular visitor to her apartment; bringing food, checking on her, playing with Noah. But then his caseload had picked up and he hadn’t had as much free time to visit. He’d called round a couple of times, but it was always late, and Noah was always in bed.

She tilted her head at Noah. “You do, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Noah nodded, his mouth full of food. After swallowing, he added. “I like Uncle Rafa.”

Olivia hadn’t realised just how attached her son had become to her best friend. It appeared that somewhere, in between the food deliveries, the robot building and the numerous episodes of Paw Patrol, that the two of them had formed some sort of mutual appreciation society.

Noah wasn’t the only one who missed Rafael. Olivia did too. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, in the last few months, she had begun to see him in a different light. He was still her friend. Her best friend. But there was something more there now. They’d started to spend more time together outside of work, and in that, she had become more at ease using his given name, and then the shortened version that Noah used. They’d become a lot more touchy-feely too. Nothing overtly romantic or sexual but a brush of fingers here and there when handing over a coffee cup, a reassuring touch here to there to the shoulder or back, the occasional hug goodbye at the door of her apartment. And two nights before Sheila had taken Noah, she was almost certain his lips had brushed her cheek as their embrace on her threshold had lingered.

There hadn’t been much time to analyse his actions before her world had been thrown into complete chaos, never mind to actually discuss them with him. But when she did think about, Olivia found she didn’t mind. She hadn’t been offended or disgusted or embarrassed. It had felt good, natural. She’d felt the tingle from where his lips had touched her skin for hours afterwards.

She had wanted nothing more than to join him for dinner tonight, but she had Noah to think about. Lucy had already stayed late and put Noah to bed for her twice this week. She couldn’t allow it to happen a third time. She was a mother, and her son had to come first. So, when Rafael had announced his plans to get a steak dinner to celebrate his win, with an implied invitation for her to join him, she’d had to decline. No matter how tempting the offer. And boy was she tempted.

Thankfully, Rafael understood that she wasn’t rejecting him because she didn’t want to go to dinner with him. It was just timing. When he’d asked she’d thought, ‘maybe in a few months I’ll feel more able to say yes’; when things were calmer, and she was less paranoid about leaving Noah. That eventually, if her life ever settled down, they may get around to acting on the feelings that were obviously simmering below the surface of their friendship.

But now, sitting at the table with her son asking about Rafael, missing him, she regretted her decision to turn him down. She couldn’t accept his invitation to go out, but she could extend one for him to join them. There was a good chance he’d accept. His implied invitation suggested that he wanted to spend the evening with her and he’d made it clear, over the past few months, that he didn’t mind spending time with Noah.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that then,” Olivia said, smiling at Noah as she picked up her phone and typed out a text.

_IF YOU FANCY YOUR STEAK WITH A SIDE_   
_OF PAW PATROL, FOLLOWED BY A SNAP RE-MATCH,_   
_THEN YOU'RE MORE THAN WELCOME TO_   
_GET IT TO GO AND COME AND EAT HERE._

* * *

Rafael looked at his watch as he stood in the foyer of MJ’s, willing the time to move faster. He was not a patient man at the best of times, but he was even worse when he was hungry. He’d been here almost twenty minutes when he sent his first message to Olivia, and it was likely to be at least another twenty before he sat down. If the steak wasn’t so mouth-wateringly tasty here, he’d have found gone somewhere else. Rafael hoped that by engaging Olivia in a text conversation, he’d be distracted, and the time would perhaps pass quicker.

His phone vibrated in his hand and a smile crept onto his face as he read her most recent message. He looked up from the screen and gestured to the manager.

“Hey, Marcus?”

The older man sighed. “Rafael, I told you; getting you a table will take as long as it takes, I can’t bump you up the list.”

The ADA had been a regular in his restaurant for over ten years and had helped him out with legal advice whenever he needed it. They’d become confidantes, if not friends, and he enjoyed the younger man’s company but sometimes, he infuriated him beyond belief.

“I know, I know. But my plans have changed. Is there any chance I could get some food to go?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “The things I do for you, Rafael.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked with a triumphant smile.

“Go on then. Just this once. What do you want?”

After placing his order, Rafael took a seat at the bar to await his food. He was tempted to order a scotch, but he refrained, opting for a club soda instead. He didn’t want to be under the influence, even slightly, if he was going to spend time with Noah. Perhaps once the little man was in bed, he and Olivia would have a drink, maybe talk. Everything between them was so charged lately, every look and touch, they needed to address it before it was taken out of their control.

He shot Olivia a quick message.

_SOUNDS GREAT._   
_THANKS. BE THERE IN ABOUT 30-40 MINS._   
_TELL NOAH TO PREPARE TO BE DEFEATED._

A brief moment passed before his phone vibrated in his hands once more.

_NOAH SAYS ‘IN YOUR DREAMS’_

* * *

When Rafael arrived at Olivia’s, Noah was already deep into his Paw Patrol marathon. But he paused the show to greet their visitor.

“Hi, Uncle Rafa!”

“Hi!”

Olivia took his take-out bag from him and disappeared into the kitchen with it, allowing him to take off his coat and jacket. He’d already discarded his tie in the Uber and it was now folded neatly in his briefcase, which he placed at the side of the couch.

“So, what are Chase and friends up to today?” Rafael asked Noah as he slipped off his shoes. He never thought he’d be at a point in his life where he was au fait with the names of modern cartoon characters, but he found he didn’t mind.

“The lighthouse has gone dark and they’re trying to stop a ship heading for the rocks,” the boy informed him, barely glancing away from the screen. “Do you wanna watch with me?”

“Sure.” Rafael took a seat next to Noah as Olivia returned with his food all plated up, on a lap tray. He smiled his thanks.

“Not exactly the refined dining experience of MJ’s, I know but…”

“It’s perfect, Liv,” he assured, taking the tray from her. “I can’t imagine a better way to spend my evening.”

The combination of honesty and deep affection in his eyes left her heart pounding. The air between them was electric, the scent of his aftershave was intoxicating. The moment was broken by Noah laughing at the antics of Chase and Zuma.

Olivia averted her gaze, clearing her throat, “Do you want a drink?”

Rafel swallowed thickly. “Water, please.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow at his request. “No Scotch?”

“I need all my wits about me. I have a snap re-match to win, remember?” he smirked.

Olivia smiled and shook her head. “How could I forget?” She disappeared off to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with two glasses of water and taking a seat on Noah’s other side.

Once Rafael had cleared his plate, he retrieved a brown paper bag from his briefcase. “I may have a made a quick stop on the way over from MJ’s,” he confessed.

Noah beamed as he saw the bag Rafael was holding. “Cookies!” The bag was from Carlo’s a bakery that Rafael had introduced Olivia and Noah too several months ago. It had become a firm favourite for the two of them, especially with Noah who adored their cookies.

“Yeah. A fresh batch too.” Rafael told him.

Noah leant towards him and wrapped his arms around Rafael’s middle. “Thanks, Uncle Rafa. You’re the best!”

Although slightly taken aback by the boy’s affections – Noah had never hugged him before – Rafael’s arm dropped to Noah’s shoulder and he gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Can we eat them now?” Noah asked Rafael, climbing into his lap.  

Rafael chucked. “I think that’s up to your Mom, _amigo_.”

“Can we Momma, please?”

Olivia nodded. “Of course we can. Cookies and one more episode of Paw Patrol and then you need to start getting ready for bed.”

“But Uncle Rafa and I need to play snap,” Noah reminded her.

“Maybe we can play once you’re in your jammies?” suggested Rafael, glancing at Olivia over the top of his head for approval.

“That’s a good idea,” nodded Olivia, before focusing on Noah. “So, one more episode, jammies and teeth, snap and then story time, okay mister?”

“Okay, Momma.”

“Alright, let’s see what we have here…” Rafael opened the bag containing the cookies and handed Noah some napkins. He placed the first cookie on top of the napkins. “White chocolate and raspberry for your Mom,” he instructed Noah, who dutifully passed on the treat.

“Thank you,” Olivia said taking it from him.

“Coconut Crunch for me.” Noah placed the napkin containing Rafael’s cookie on his lap while he patiently awaited his.

“And a triple chocolate chunk; that must be for Eddie, right?”

“Don’t be silly!” laughed Noah. “Elephants don’t eat cookies. That one’s for me.”  He took the treat from Rafael and took a bit, crumbs raining onto Rafael’s knee.

“Careful, sweet boy,” cautioned Olivia, as she pressed play on the DVD remote to begin Noah’s final episode of Paw Patrol.

The cartoon soon drew Noah’s attention and the rather large cookie was forgotten after only a few bites. Noah didn’t relinquish his hold on it though and soon the oven-baked treat had melted into a sticky, gooey mess. As his eyelids began to droop, Olivia took the remains of the cookie through to the kitchen. When she returned with a washcloth to clean his hands, she found him nestled into Rafael’s chest, dirty hands resting on his shirt.

For his part, Rafael hadn’t noticed, he was seemingly enthralled in Paw Patrol while absentmindedly stroking Noah’s curls.

“Rafa, your shirt.” She pointed out where Noah’s hand was laying on his dress shirt.

“What?” He looked down. “Oh --" he stopped and quirked an eyebrow "What’s a child appropriate swear word?”

“There isn’t one,” smirked Olivia.

“Oh well,” he lifted Noah’s hand and examined the stain. “Maybe I’ll start a new trend in men’s shirts?”

Olivia laughed and shook her head at him. “I think I’d better clean this one up and put him to bed.” She plucked the sleeping child off Rafael’s lap. “Looks like your long-awaited snap re-match will have to wait.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

Rafael smiled and shook his head. “It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.”

* * *

Olivia returned from tucking Noah in, to find Rafael in the kitchen, sponging his shirt. She approached him and lay a hand on his upper back.

“I’m sorry about that.” She gestured at the Noah-sized chocolate hand-print just below the collar.

He waved off her apology. “My dry cleaner can work wonders.”

“I’ll pay for it,” she offered.

“You will not.”

“Rafa, my son was the one who covered you in chocolate.”

“Yes, while eating the cookie that _I_ bought him.” He dropped the cloth into the sink and turned to face her, taking her hands in his, “Don’t worry about the shirt, Liv. Please. It’s not a problem.”

Olivia nodded, her eyes trained on his hands, where his thumbs were stroking gently across her knuckles. Rafael followed her gaze and, on realising what he’d done, dropped her hands.

“I’m sorry Liv, I shouldn’t have-”

“No… it’s nice,” she said quietly, glancing up at him. “I’m just not sure I can do this… us right now…”

Her head was bowed, and her hair had fallen, obscuring her face. He dipped his head to capture her gaze.

“Then I’ll wait. But, if your reluctance to explore something more between us has anything to do with your ‘responsibilities’, you should know that I get it. I understand that Noah will always come first and I’m okay with that Liv.”

“I can’t offer you a simple, easy relationship, Rafa.”

“Since when is any relationship simple?”

“But my life is more complicated than most. I’m a single mother with a demanding, full-time career. My life is busy, chaotic and sometimes downright mad. It’s me trying to find a balance between work and home, Noah asking a constant barrage of questions, homework, battles over what to eat, trips to the doctor – oh, and laundry, there’s _always_ laundry. It’s exhausting.” She had begun pacing the small kitchen during her little edict, and when she turned back to face him, her eyes were moist. “Can you honestly tell me you want to get into all that?”

He met her gaze, his eyes soft and warm. “Yeah, I can. Because I happen to think you’re worth it. And I think the life that we could have together – you, me _and_ Noah – could be amazing.”

“Rafa-” His name was a whisper on her lips. She hadn’t expected this. They had spent the best part of six years dancing around their feelings for each other. This raw, direct honesty was so unlike them.

He took a step towards her and reached for her hand once more. “This isn’t me acting on impulse here, Liv. This is something I’ve wanted for… longer than I care to admit. I’ve given it ample consideration. I’m not trying to pressure you, I’m just trying to give you all the information you need to make an informed decision. But if you don’t want to or you’re not ready, then we can forget this conversation ever happened and just go back to being friends.” It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d do it. For her. To have her in his life. “It’s up to you Liv. What do you want?”

She stood still, considering his words because he deserved that much. He was staring at her with an intensity that almost took her breath away. He’d do it, she knew that. He would close the door on them being anything more than friends if she asked him to. Or, she could throw it wide open.  

Deep down, Olivia knew what she wanted; she wanted a relationship with the man standing in front of her, offering himself to her. But her desires were was clouded by fear and responsibility. She took a moment to consider Rafael’s words. He’d promised her this was what he wanted; to be part of the chaos and madness that was her life, and she trusted him. There was no reason to doubt him. That was enough. She hummed softly and lay her hand against his chest.

“I want you.” The words came without hesitation. “I want us.” Olivia lifted her face toward him, her eyes bright, and his hands came up to slid gently into her hair. It was hardly a kiss at all, the soft brushing of their lips, but it held a wealth of promise.

Rafael tipped her head back and gazed into her eyes. His lips brushed hers once more before he let his hands drop. "I should probably go." He didn’t want to push her. “Will you let me take you for dinner one night next week? Noah too, if need be.”

“That sounds… wonderful," she agreed. “I’m sure Noah will be fine at home with Lucy.” He was right, she needed to think of herself occasionally and they should start their relationship with a proper date, just the two of them. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, Noah was going to grow up and need her less and less and eventually, if things went well between them, it would just be her and Rafa. But she didn’t want to wait until then to spend quality time with him on their own. It wouldn’t happen every week, it may not even happen every month, but she would try. For him. For them.

Her eyes followed him as he stepped back. She tracked his movement around the bar and only when he'd made it halfway across the living room did she manage to spur herself into movement. Olivia stepped out of the kitchen and followed him more slowly. She pressed her lips together and moaned quietly at the tumult of thoughts and emotions that were suddenly upon her. "Rafa."

His hand had only just barely brushed the doorknob. He turned and caught her gaze. The longing in it had him closing the gap between them in two strides. Reaching her, he pushed his hands into her hair and covered her mouth with his own before she could change her mind. He turned them both until the wall was at her back and she was pressed against it. He lowered his head and caught her mouth again, this time kissing her with all the fervour that he’d been tampering for all these months.

At last, they parted, breaths ragged, and lips swollen. "Stay," she murmured.

“You sure?”

When the whispered ‘yes’ fell from her lips, he kissed them again and pulled her away from the wall. Her arms moved around his neck and when he lifted her, she gasped against his mouth. His touch burned right through her, while something deeper sparked and began to blossom. It was a bit like the first bloom of spring after a bitter, cold winter. Bright and full of promise.

It was the last coherent thought she allowed herself to enjoy before being swept away on a wave of desire and love. Her responsibilities would still be there in the morning, but for tonight they could wait.


End file.
